"That money—the money for that stock. I want to leave it with you—to use or not to use as you think best. I’ve got a great deal of money—much more than is good for me."
"No, Rita, no. I can’t do that. If I’m going to lose, I’ll lose alone."
"But if you win?" she turned and gave him her hand. "You will. I’ve sworn you will. And here’s luck on it." Instead of clasping her hand, as she intended he should, he raised it to his lips and kissed it gently—as under different conditions he might have kissed her lips. She looked down at the top of his head and closed her eyes a moment, but when he looked up she was smiling gaily.
"Yes," she said coolly, "I believe I am."
They rode into Mesa City slowly. The valley was already wrapped in shadow, but above them the upper half of Saguache Peak was afire with the sunset. The evening train was in and had puffed its way up to the yard. There was a crowd at the post-office waiting for mail, and scattered groups here and there were chatting with the arrivals. Wray and Mrs. Cheyne climbed the slope to the Kinney House, where a cowboy from the Home Ranch was waiting for their horses. They dismounted and went indoors to the office, where a solitary lady in a dark dress was signing her name to the hotel register. At the sound of their voices she turned and straightened, suddenly very pale and tense. And then, before Jeff could speak, turned again quickly to the clerk and said quietly:
"If you’ll show me the way up at once, please, I’d like to go to my room."
Jeff followed Camilla’s departing back with blank bewilderment, too amazed to utter a word. Rita Cheyne looked at Jeff’s face and then laughed.
"Act Three will now begin," she said gaily. "It’s really too good, Jeff. But it’s time for the lady-villain to die. I’m off stage now, so good-by."
She gave him her hand, and he took it mechanically.
"I’ll see you to-morrow," he said gravely.
"No, this is good-by. There isn’t any to-morrow for us. I won’t see you, Jeff. I think perhaps you won’t want to see me now."
"This will make no difference," he stammered. "Don’t you see—I’ve got to make _her_ understand."
"You mean—my reputation. She’d never understand that. You’ll be wasting time. Don’t bother. I’m going to Denver in the morning. No, not a word——"