resisted, submitted for a long moment, then began pushing against his chest and finally broke away, breathing heavily. With the back of her hand she rubbed her lips, looking at him wide-eyed, visibly shaken.
Fire from the kiss clung to his lips, burning them. Danner felt shame wash over him. In the future Lona would have at least grounds for her lack of trust, he thought savagely.
'You deliberately invited that,' he said hoarsely.
'Yes.' She flushed, dropping her gaze. 'I guess I did.'
'Why?'
'I don't know,' she said. 'But I'll see to it that it doesn't happen again.' She had regained her composure now, except for a faint coloring on her cheeks. 'I'll have to be going if I'm to get back to town before dark.' She hurried over to her horse, then looked back over her shoulder.
'You will stay out of Richfield for a while?'
There's more to this than she has mentioned, Danner thought. He moved toward her, watching every facial movement for a possible answer.
'I have business in town both tonight and tomorrow,' he answered.
Melinda's hands tightened into tiny fists. 'I just told you what—' and she dropped her hands stiffly to her sides. 'If you do go, someone will say something that will start trouble. As long as you live, people will always think of you as Colonel Richfield's special agent. He must share the blame for anything you do, or are accused of doing.'
The truth shall be known, Danner thought, recalling a quotation he had read somewhere. It had been mostly concern for her father's good reputation that had brought her out here, and very little desire to make amends for her past attitude toward him. He flipped his hat to the back of his head.
'A man can't avoid trouble by hiding from it.'
Anger stained her cheeks with color. 'You certainly can't avoid it any other way unless you really want to do so.'
She grabbed the curved horn of the sidesaddle and pulled herself up into riding position before he could move over to help her.
'I really need to make those two trips into town,' Danner told her. 'But I can skip the trip tonight if you will deliver a message to the telegrapher for me.'
She nodded assent.
Danner entered the house and rummaged through his gear until he found some paper and a stub pencil. Then he scribbled out a telegram to the grain elevator in Junction City. He returned to Melinda, handing the folded sheet up to her.
'Give this to the telegrapher on duty and ask him to send it. Tell him I'll pay for it tomorrow when I pick up the answer.'
Melinda glanced at the folded sheet without opening it, then darted a quick look at him as she tucked the paper into a tiny pocket in her jacket.
'If you read it,' Danner said, 'don't repeat it to anyone.'
She flinched as if he had slapped her, pulled the reins sharply and galloped from the yard. Danner watched her ride out of sight, softly cursing his own sharp tongue.
McDaniel argued with Danner all the way to Richfield, insisting that they attend the meeting of the grangers.
'Billy, you're as mule-headed as a woman,' Danner concluded as they reached the outskirts of town.
McDaniel displayed no humor, just an inflexible stubbornness. 'Browder has been short-weighing grangers for years, stealing at least a fourth of their crop with those crooked scales of his. We've got to stick with the others if we are to beat him.'
'I can't see it that way,' Danner shook his head. 'We can work out our own solution and let the others take care of themselves. In fact, most of them probably would prefer that I stay out of their plans.'
'We must stick together,' McDaniel repeated doggedly.
'You try to do a favor for other folks and they'll kick you in the teeth,' Danner warned.
'Jeff, you ought to feel a little more kindly toward folks—meet them halfway, work with them on common problems.'
'Sure,' Danner grated. 'I have a lot of reason to feel kindly toward my fellow man.'
They reined in at the Trading Center and McDaniel twisted in the saddle. 'Would you go to the meeting just as a personal favor to me?'
Danner sat idly in the saddle, studying the likable big Irishman. Then he shrugged with resignation. 'All right, Billy. I'll go with you, but if any of those hardheads pop off—' He broke off, remembering his scene with Melinda. He stepped down out of the saddle and roughly knotted the reins around the rail. 'Forget it. I guess if I'm fool enough to stay around here, I'll just have to try to avoid trouble.'
'Thanks, Jeff.' Billy's voice sounded grateful as he, too, quit the saddle.
The Trading Center consisted of a market place for produce, located at Danner's far left, a corral for horse trading at his far right, and a collection of farm machinery in front of him. Danner idled by the horses while McDaniel bargained with the Swede who operated the center. Just behind them stood a row of new machines that were supposed to cut wheat and bind it into stalks, both in the same operation. They were the first such machines this far west, McDaniel had told him. J. K. Case wheat thrashers lay scattered about. Renting such fancy equipment would come high, Danner thought.
Looking west along the main street Danner observed the town beginning to fill up with Saturday shoppers. Straight across from the Trading Center stood Browder's sprawling granary.
Danner felt the muscles along his back tighten as the black-clad Tuso swaggered out of the granary office and moved west along the far side of the street. Filled with a runt's need to prove himself as tough as any, Tuso deliberately bumped into an overall-clad farmer coming out of the hardware store across the way. The farmer pulled back, glaring, but made no motion toward Tuso. Then Tuso laughed at him, his great barrel chest swelling, and swaggered on down the street. He repeated the bumping process on a ranch hand who was coming out of the Silver Dollar Saloon, with much the same results. Idly, Danner watched him, wondering how long it would be until Tuso finally decided to try him.
Then Danner remembered the telegram Melinda had brought in for him. The reply should be here by now. Glancing around, he found McDaniel still bargaining with the Swede. Danner mounted and rode to the depot. He inquired about the telegram, and the telegrapher who had replaced McDaniel handed it to him with a thinly veiled animosity. Ignoring him, Danner stuck the yellow sheet of paper in his pocket, paid for both messages, then returned to the Trading Center. He arrived in time to see Billy shaking hands with the Swede, indicating that a bargain had been reached. But McDaniel continued to talk animatedly, so Danner eased out of the saddle and unfolded the telegram. He hurried through the message, then read it again. Satisfied, he returned it to his pocket. McDaniel interrupted his thoughts.
'They'll start harvesting our crop Monday,' he said, his face glowing with satisfaction. 'And the thrashers will be out two weeks later.'
Danner nodded approval and they mounted. McDaniel pulled a heavy railroad watch from his vest pocket and glanced at it.
'The meeting will be starting soon. Do you want to go on down to the hotel?'
'Might as well,' Danner said, and they drifted along the street. The hotel liveryman smiled at McDaniel when he took his reins, but his mouth hardened when he recognized Danner. He took the reins from Danner without a word.
About a dozen rough-clad farmers clustered in the lobby of the hotel. All glared silently as Danner moved toward the banquet hall where the meeting was to be held. For a moment anger brushed him, but the dead ashes of anger from too many other snubs furnished very little fuel for a new fire.
Rows of chairs facing a raised platform crowded the room. Danner followed McDaniel to the far right corner of the room and sat down at the end of the front row. He twisted his chair around just enough to see each man
