Very well. I yield to
mine. This afternoon I will have the pleasure of calling at The
Brakes."
Alice nodded a curt good-bye, but her cousin offered him a
beautifully gloved hand to shake. A delightful tingle of triumph
warmed him. The daughter of Big Joe Powers, the grim gray pirate
who worked the levers of the great Transcontinental Railroad
system, had taken pains to be nice to him. The only fly in the
ointment of his self-satisfaction had been Alice Frome's
reticence.
Why had she not shown any desire to have him call? He could guess
at one reason. The campaign for the legislature and the subsequent
battle for the senatorship had been bitter. Charges of corruption
had been flung broadcast. A dozen detectives had been hired to get
evidence on one side or the other. If he were seen going to The
Brakes just now fifty rumors might be flying inside of the hour.
His guess was a good one. Alice drove the car forward several
blocks without speaking, Valencia Van Tyle watching with good-
humored contempt the little frown that rested on her cousin's
candid face.
"I perceive that my uncompromising cousin is moved to protest,"
she suggested placidly.
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