In vain.

Already Maurice Rodaine had escorted her, apparently against her will, to a far end of the dance hall, and there was quarreling with her.

Fairchild hurried to join the sheriff and his two deputies, just starting out of the dance hall.

Five minutes later they were in a motor car, chugging up Kentucky Gulch.
The trip was made silently.

There was nothing for Fairchild to say; he had told all he knew.