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with a deep chuckle, went to find Clayton. He knew where the man would be enjoying himself. Jason could scarcely wait to sample similar pleasures. Kansas City had many gorgeous women, and if he couldn't have Gabrielle MacLaren that night, he planned to be content with the affection of several others.

    "^/u^/i/e^JJ
    Rushing from his bedroom toward Jason's, Clayton Home hahed abruptly in the center of the drawing room when he saw his friend seated upon the couch. The young man was dressed in his gray suit, neatly groomed in preparation for the morning's meeting, but he sat with his head in his hands, clearly unready to face anyone as yet.
    "You've only yourself to blame for the miserable way you feel, Jason, but that's slight consolation I know."
    Although he was fifteen years older than the handsome young man, Clayton regarded Jason as his closest friend. Their travels together had forged a bond of trust which both valued; still, Clayton was fond of giving advice although he knew Jason seldom heeded his words.
    Jason looked up with a wicked grin. "It was worth it. Clay, every last minute."
    Clayton laughed as he shook his head reproachfully. "At my age, it's a choice between liquor or the ladies, and I can tell you women are one pleasure I will never give up. Besides, I feel better this morning than I have in years which is one boast you certainly can't make."
    Jason knew he had not simply gotten drunk; he'd gone way past mere inebriation. He considered himself lucky to have found his way back to the hotel even though it had been after

    five A.M. when heM managed to do so.
    "You know I never drink a drop on the trail, so I can tolerate a hangover or two when I'm in Kansas City."
    Clayton chuckled at that thought for he knew Jason to have remarkable powers of recovery which he'd admired on more than one occasion. Pausing before the mirror, he patted his hair hoping to make the unruly sandy waves follow the shape of his head rather than stick out in all directions as they tended to do despite his lifelong efforts to tame them. His tan skin showed only a few slight wrinkles at the corners of his clear blue eyes and he was quite pleased that he looked so fit that morning when Jason had plainly overindulged himself. Satisfied with his appearance, he turned around.
    "That's good to hear, for I need your advice on a problem which has just presented itself. We must make a decision immediately and since you had far more opportunity than I did to speak with Miss MacLaren, I'd value your opinion."
    Clayton knew he was the more deliberate of the two. He pondered questions for days while Jason would give a matter no more than a moment's consideration before rendering a decision. That Jason's judgments were nearly always superior caused Clayton considerable chagrin, but he had made no attempt to adopt the younger man's far swifter mode of thinking when he feared he simply lacked the intelligence to do so.
    Because of the intense pain which throbbed in his head, Jason doubted he could give a fair opinion on any subject, let alone the volatile Miss MacLaren.
    "Why do you ask?"
    Clayton pulled up a chair and sat down opposite his friend. "Do you recall meeting a man named Joshua Taylor back home?"
    "No. Should I?" Jason asked cautiously. He sat up straight and tried to focus his eyes upon his watch. They still had an hour before the meeting would begin, and he had expected to use that time to rest. He yawned sleepily, then tried to give

    Clayton his attention; but that was a difficult task.
    "Well, I was hoping you knew him because while the name's familiar I can't seem to place the man/' Tapping a thick white envelope against his fingertips, he explained. ''I found this letter at the desk when I went downstairs for breakfast this morning. Food is something you might consider, by the way. The letter is from Mr. Taylor and he says he's sorry he took so long to make up his mind, but he wants to come in on our venture. He enclosed the amount