She wrung her hands, which is a bad sign in a capable person, and
as Glenister crossed the floor below in her sight she said, "Ah-h-
-I could kill him for that!"

"So could I," said the Kid, and left her without adieu.




CHAPTER XIII

IN WHICH A MAN IS POSSESSED OF A DEVIL


For a long time Cherry Malotte sat quietly thinking, removed by
her mental stress to such an infinite distance from the music and
turmoil beneath that she was conscious of it only as a formless
clamor. She had tipped a chair back against the door, wedging it
beneath the knob so that she might be saved from interruption,
then flung herself into another seat and stared unseeingly. As she
sat thus, and thought, and schemed, harsh and hateful lines seemed
to eat into her face. Now and then she moaned impatiently, as
though fearing lest the strategy she was plotting might prove
futile; then she would rise and pace her narrow quarters. She was
unconscious of time, and had spent perhaps two hours thus, when
amid the buzz of talk in the next compartment she heard a name
which caused her to start, listen, then drop her preoccupation
like a mantle. A man was speaking of Glenister. Excitement
thrilled his voice.