Stronger than ever was Anita Richmond in Fairchild's thoughts now, and it was with avidity that he learned every scrap of news regarding her, as brought to him by Mother Howard.
Hungrily he listened for the details of how she had weathered the shock of her father's death; anxiously he inquired for her return in the days following the information--via Mother Howard--that she had gone on a short trip to Denver to look after matters pertaining to her father's estate.

Dully he heard that she had come back, and that Maurice Rodaine had told friends that the passing of the Judge had caused only a slight postponement in their marital plans.

And perhaps it was this which held Fairchild in check, which caused him to wonder at the vagaries of the girl--a girl who had thwarted the murderous plans of a future father-in-law--and to cause him to fight down a desire to see her, an attempt to talk to her and to learn directly from her lips her position toward him,--and toward the Rodaines.
Finally, back to his normal strength once more, Harry rose from the armchair by the window of the boarding house and turned to Fairchild.
"We 're going to work to-night," he announced calmly.
"When ?" Fairchild did not believe he understood.

Harry grinned.
"To-night.

I 've taken a notion.