. . . She disappears. That's your affair. . . . I'll press my claims on Auchincloss -- hound him -- an' be ready when he croaks to take over his property. Then the girl can come back, for all I care. . . . You an' Wilson fix up the deal between you. If you have to let the gang in on it don't give them any hunch as to who an' what. This 'll make you a rich stake. An' providin', when it's paid, you strike for new territory."

“Thet might be wise,” muttered Snake Anson. “Beasley, the weak point in your game is the uncertainty of life. Old Al is tough. He may fool you.”

“Auchincloss is a dyin' man,” declared Beasley, with such positiveness that it could not be doubted.

“Wal, he sure wasn't plumb hearty when I last seen him. . . . Beasley, in case I play your game -- how'm I to know that girl?”

“Her name's Helen Rayner,” replied Beasley, eagerly. “She's twenty years old. All of them Auchinclosses was handsome an' they say she's the handsomest.”

“A-huh! . . . Beasley, this 's sure a bigger deal -- an' one I ain't fancyin'. . . .