"Well, that's all right," said Wiley. "I forgive you, and all that; but don't let your father know. He's got old-fashioned ideas about keeping a trust and—say, do you know what he thinks? I happened to mention, the first night I got in, that a woman had thrown me down; and he just now took me aside and told me not to worry because he'd never mention the lady to you. He thinks it was somebody else."

"Oh," breathed Virginia, and then she sat silent while he kicked a hole in the dirt and waited. He was willing to concede anything, agree to anything, look pleasant at anything, until the ordeal was over; and then he intended to depart. Where he would go was a detail to be considered later when he felt the need of something to occupy his mind; right now he was only thinking that she looked very pale—and there was a tired, hunted look in her eyes. She had nerves, of course, the same as he had, and the trip across Death Valley had been hard on her; but if she suffered now, he had suffered also, and he failed to be as sorry as he should.

"You'll be all right now," he said at last, when it seemed she would never speak up, "and I'm glad you found your father. He'll go back with you now and take a fall out of Blount and—well, you won't feel so poor, any more."

"Yes, I will," returned Virginia, suddenly rousing up and looking at him with haggard eyes. "I'll always feel poor, because if I gave you back all I had it wouldn't be a tenth of what you lost."

"Oh, that's all right," grumbled Wiley. "I don't care about the money. Are they hunting me for murder, or what?"

"Oh, no; not for anything!" she answered eagerly. "You'll come back, won't you, Wiley? Mother was watching you through her glasses, and she says George fired first. They aren't trying to arrest you; all they want you to do is to give up and stand a brief trial. And I'll help you, Wiley; oh, I've just got to do something or I'll be miserable all my life!"

"You're tired now," said Wiley. "It'll look different, pretty soon; and—well, I don't think I'll go in, right now."

"But where will you go?" she entreated piteously. "Oh, Wiley, can't you see I'm sorry? Why can't you forgive me and let me try to make amends, instead of making both our lives so miserable?"

"I don't know," answered Wiley. "It's just the way I feel. I've got nothing against you; I just want to get away and forget a few things that you've done."

"And then?" she asked, and he smiled enigmatically.

"Well, maybe you'll forget me, too."

"But Father!" she objected as he rose up suddenly and started off down the creek. "He thinks we're lovers, you know." Wiley stopped and the cold anger in his eyes gave way to a look of doubt. "Why not pretend we are?" she suggested wistfully. "Not really, but just before him. I told him we'd quarreled—and he knows I followed after you. Just to-day, Wiley; and then you can go. But if my father should think——"

"Well, all right," he broke in, and as they stepped out into the open she slipped her hand into his.



CHAPTER XXXII

A HUFF

The Colonel was sitting in the shade of a wild grapevine rapping out a series of questions at Charley, but at sight of the young people coming back hand in hand, he paused and smiled understandingly.

"What now?" he said. "Is there a new earth and a new heaven? Ah, well; then Virginia's trip was worth while. But Charley here is so full of signs and wonders that my brain is fairly in a whirl. The Germans, it seems, have made a forty-two centimeter gun that is blasting down cities in France; and the Allies, to beat them, are constructing still larger ones made out of tungsten that is mined from the Paymaster. Yes, yes, Charley, that's all right, I don't doubt your word, but we'll call on Wiley for the details."

He laughed indulgently and poured Charley out a drink which made his eyes blink and snap and then he waved him graciously away.

"Take your burros up the canyon," he suggested briefly, and when Charley was gone he smiled. "Now," he said, as Virginia sat down beside him, "what's all this about the Paymaster and Keno?"

"Well," began Virginia as Wiley sat silent, "there really was tungsten in the mine. Wiley discovered it first—he was just going through the town when he saw that specimen in my collection—and since then,—oh, everything has happened!"

"By the dog!" exclaimed the Colonel starting quickly to his feet. "Do you mean that Crazy Charley spoke the truth? Is the mine really open and the town full of people and——"

"You wouldn't know it!" cried Virginia, triumphantly. "All that heavy, white quartz was tungsten!"

"What? That waste on the dump? But how much is it worth? Old Charley says it's better than gold!"

"It is!" she answered. "Why, some of that rock ran five thousand dollars to the ton!"

"Five—thousand!" repeated the Colonel, and then he whirled on Wiley. "What's the reason, then," he demanded, "that you're hiding out here in the hills? Didn't you get possession of the mine?"

"Under a bond and lease," explained Wiley shortly. "I failed to meet the final payment."

"Why—how much was this payment?" inquired the Colonel cautiously, as he sensed the sudden constraint. "It seems to me the mine should have paid it at once."

"Fifty thousand," answered Wiley, gazing glumly at the ground and the Colonel opened his eyes!

"Fifty thousand!" he exclaimed. "Only fifty thousand dollars? Well! What were the circumstances, Wiley?"

He stood expectant and as Wiley boggled and hesitated Virginia rose up and stood beside him.

"He got the bond and lease from Blount," she began, talking rapidly, "and when Blount found that the white quartz was tungsten ore, he did all he could to block Wiley. When Wiley first came through the town and stopped at our house he knew that that white quartz was tungsten; but he couldn't do anything, then. And then, by-and-by, when he tried to bond the mine, Blount came up himself and tried to work it."

"He did, eh?" cried the Colonel. "Well, by what right, I'd like to know, did he dare to take possession of the Paymaster?"

"Oh, he'd bought up all the stock; and Mother, she took yours and——"

"What?" yelled the Colonel, and then he closed down his jaw and his blue eyes sparkled ominously. "Proceed," he said. "The information, first—but, by the gods, he shall answer for this!"

"But all the time," went on Virginia hastily, "the mine belonged to Wiley. It had been sold for taxes—and he bought it!"

"Ah!" observed the Colonel, and glanced at him shrewdly for he saw now where the tale was going.

"Well," continued Virginia, "when Blount saw Wiley wanted it he came up and took it himself. And he hired Stiff Neck George to herd the mine and keep Wiley and everybody away. But when he was working it, why Wiley came back and claimed it under the tax sale; and he went right up to the mine and took away George's gun—and kicked him down the dump!"

"He did!" exclaimed the Colonel, but Wiley did not look up, for his mind was on the end of the tale.

"And then—oh, it's all mixed up, but Blount couldn't find any gold and so he leased the mine to Wiley. And the minute he found that the white quartz was tungsten, and worth three dollars a pound, he was mad as anything and did everything he could to keep him from meeting the payment. But Wiley went ahead and shipped a lot of ore and made a lot of money in spite of him. He cleaned out the mine and fixed up the mill and oh, Father, you wouldn't know the place!"

"Probably not!" returned the Colonel, "but proceed with your story. Who holds the Paymaster, now?"

"Why Blount, of course, and he's moved back to town and is simply shoveling out the ore!"

"The scoundrel!" burst out the Colonel. "Wiley, we will return to Keno immediately and bring this blackguard to book! I have a stake in this matter, myself!"

"Nope, not for me!" answered Wiley wearily. "You haven't heard all the story. I fell down on the final payment—it makes no difference how—and when I came back Blount had jumped the mine and Stiff Neck George was in charge. But instead of warning me off he hid behind a car and—well, I don't care to go back there, now."

"Why, certainly! You must!" declared the Colonel warmly. "You were acting in self defense and I consider that your conduct was justified. In fact, my boy, I wish to congratulate you—Charley tells me he had the drop on you."

"Yes, sure," grumbled Wiley, "but you aren't the judge—and there's a whole lot more to the story. It happens that I took an option on Blount's Paymaster stock, but when I offered the payment he protested the contract and took the case to court. Now—he's got the town of Vegas in his inside vest pocket, the lawyers and judges and all; and do you think for a minute he's going to let me come back and take away those four hundred thousand shares?"

"Four hundred thousand?" repeated the Colonel incredulously, "do you mean to tell me——"

"Yes, you bet I do!" said Wiley, "and I'll tell you something else. According to the dates on the back of those certificates it was Blount that sold you out. He sold all his promotion stock before the panic; and then, when the price was down to nothing, he turned around and bought it back. I knew from the first that he'd lied about my father and I kept after him till I got my hands on that stock—and then, when I'd proved it, he tried to put the blame on you!"

"The devil!" exclaimed the Colonel, and paced up and down, snapping his fingers and muttering to himself. "The cowardly dastard!" he burst out at last. "He has poisoned ten years of my life. I must hurry back at once and go to John Holman and apologize to him publicly for this affront. After all the years that we were pardners in everything, and then to have me doubt his integrity! He was the soul of honor, one man in ten thousand; and yet I took the word of this lying Blount against the man I called My Friend! I remember, by gad, as if it were yesterday, the first time I really knew your father; and Blount was squeezing me, then. I owed him fifteen thousand dollars on a certain piece of property that was worth fifty thousand at least; and at the very last moment, when he was about to foreclose, John Holman loaned me the money. He mortgaged his cattle at the other bank and put the money in my hand, and Blount cursed him for an interfering fool! That was Blount, the Shylock, and Honest John Holman; and I turned against my friend."

"Yes, that's right," agreed Wiley, "but if you want to make up for it, make 'em quit calling him 'Honest John'!"

"No, indeed," cried the Colonel, his voice tremulous with emotion. "He shall still be called Honest John; and if any man doubts it or speaks the name fleeringly he shall answer personally to me. And now, about this stock—what was that, Virginia, that you were saying about my holdings?"

"Why, Mother put them up as collateral on a loan, and Blount claimed them at the end of the first month."

"All my stock? Well, by the horn-spoon—how much did your mother borrow? Eight—hundred? Eight hundred dollars? Well, that is enough, on the face of it—but never mind, I will recover the stock. It is certainly a revelation of human nature. The moment I am reported dead, these vultures strip my family of their all."

"Well, I was one of them," spoke up Wiley bluntly, "but you don't need to blame my father. When I was having trouble with Mrs. Huff he wrote up and practically disowned me."

"So you were one of them," observed the Colonel mildly. "And you had trouble with Mrs. Huff? But no matter?" he went on. "We can discuss all that later—now to return to this lawsuit, with Blount. Do I understand that you had an option on his entire four hundred thousand shares?"

"For twenty thousand dollars," answered Wiley, "and he was glad to get it—but, of course, when I opened up that big body of tungsten, the stock was worth into millions. That is, if he could keep me from making both payments. He fought me from the start, but I put up the twenty thousand; and the clerk of the court is holding it yet, unless the case is decided. But Blount knew he could beat it, if he could keep me from buying the mine under the terms of my bond and lease; and now that he's in possession, taking out thirty or forty thousand every day, I'm licked before I begin. In fact, the case is called already and lost by default if I know that blackleg lawyer of mine."

"But hire a good lawyer!" protested the Colonel. "A man has a right to his day in court and you have never appeared."

"No, and I never will," spoke up Wiley despondently. "There's a whole lot to this case that you don't know. And the minute I appear they'll arrest me for murder and railroad me off to the Pen. No, I'm not going back, that's all."

"But Wiley," reasoned the Colonel, "you've got great interests at stake—and your father will help you, I'm sure."

"No, he won't," declared Wiley. "There isn't anybody that can help me, because Blount is in control of the courts. And I might as well add that I was run out of Vegas by a Committee appointed for the purpose." He rose up abruptly, rolling his sullen eyes on Virginia and the Colonel alike. "In fact," he burst out, "I haven't got a friend on the east side of Death Valley Sink."

"But on the west side," suggested the Colonel, drawing Virginia to his side, "you have two good friends that I know——"

"Wait till you hear it all," broke in Wiley, bitterly, "and you're likely to change your mind. No, I'm busted, I tell you, and the best thing I can do is drift and never come back."

"And Virginia?" inquired the Colonel. "Am I right in supposing——"

"No," he flared up. "Friend Virginia has quit me, along with——"

"Why, Wiley!" cried Virginia, and he started and fell silent as he met her reproachful gaze. For the sake of the Colonel they were supposed to be lovers, whose quarrel had been happily made up, but this was very unloverlike.

"Well, I don't deserve it," he muttered at last, "but friend Virginia has promised to stay with me."

"Yes, I'm going to stay with him," spoke up Virginia quickly, "because it was all my fault. I'm going to go with him, father, wherever he goes and——"

"God bless you, my daughter!" said the Colonel, smiling proudly, "and never forget you're a Huff!"



CHAPTER XXXIII

THE FIERY FURNACE

To be a Huff, of course, was to be brave and true and never go back on a friend; but as the Colonel that evening began to speak on the subject, Virginia crept off to bed. She was tired from her night trip across the Sink of Death Valley, with only Crazy Charley for a guide; but it was Wiley, the inexorable, who drove her off weeping, for he would not take her hand. His mind was still fixed on the Gethsemane of the soul that he had gone through in Blount's bank at Vegas, and strive as she would she could not bring him back to play his poor part as lover. Whether she loved him or not was not the question—not even if she was willing to throw away her life by following him in his wanderings. Three times he had trusted her and three times she had played him false—and was that the honor of the Huffs?

She was penitent now and, in the presence of her father, more gentle and womanly than seemed possible; but next week or next month or in the long years to come, was she the woman he could trust? They passed before his eyes in a swift series of images, the days when he had trusted her before; and always, behind her smile, there was something else, something cold and calculating and unkind. Her eyes were soft now, and gentle and imploring, but they had looked at him before with scorn and hateful laughter, when he had staked his soul on her word. He had trusted her—too far—and before Blount and all his sycophants she had made him a mock and a reviling.

The Colonel was talking, for his mood was expansive, but at last he fell silent and waited.

"Wiley, my boy," he said when Wiley looked up, "you must not let the past overmaster you. We all make mistakes, but if our hearts are right there is nothing that should cause vain regrets. I judged from what you said once that your present disaster is due to a misplaced trust—in fact, if I remember, to a woman. But do not let this treachery, this betrayal of a trust, turn your mind against all womankind. I have known many noble and high-minded women whom I would trust with my very life; and since Virginia, as I gather, has offered to bind up your wounds, I hope you will not remain embittered. She is my daughter, of course, and my love may have blinded me; but in all the long years she has been at my side, I can think of no instance in which she has played me false. Her nature is passionate, and she is sometimes quick to anger, but behind it all she is devotion itself and you can trust her absolutely."

He paused expectantly, but as Wiley made no response he rose up and knocked out his pipe.

"Well, good night," he said. "It is time we were retiring if we are to cross the Valley to-morrow. Have a drink? Well, all right; it's just as well. You're a good boy, Wiley; I'm proud of you."

He clapped him on the shoulder as he went off to bed, but Wiley sat brooding by the fire. Death Valley Charley took his blankets and rolled up in the creek bed, so that his burros could not sneak by him in the night, and Heine laid down beside him; but when all was quiet Wiley rose up silently and tiptoed about the camp. He strapped on his pistol and picked up his gun, but as he was groping in the darkness for his canteen Heine trotted up and flapped his ears. It was his sign of friendship, like wagging his tail, and Wiley patted him quietly; but when he was gone, he lifted the canteen and slung it over his shoulder. In the land where he was going there were more dangers than one, but lack of water was the greatest. He stepped out into the moonlight and then, from the cave, he heard a muffled sound. Virginia was there and he was running away from her. He listened again—she was crying! Not weeping aloud or in choking sobs but in stifled, heart-broken sighs. He lowered his gun and stood scowling and irresolute, then he turned back and went to bed.

In the morning they started late, resting in the shade of the Gateway until the sun had swung to the west; and then, as the shadow of the Panamints stretched out across the Valley, they repacked and started down the slope. In the lead went old Jinny, the mother of the bunch, and Jack and Johnny and Baby; and following behind his burros, paced Death Valley Charley with a long, willow club in his hand. The Colonel strode ahead, his mind on weighty matters; and behind him came Virginia on her free-footed burro with Wiley plodding silently in the rear. At irregular intervals Heine would drop back from the lead and sniff at them each in turn, but nothing was said, for the air was furnace dry and they were saving their strength for the sand.

At sundown they reached the edge of the first yielding sand-dune that presaged the long pull to come and Death Valley Charley stopped and opened up a water-can while the burros gathered eagerly around. Then he poured each of them a drink in his shapeless old hat and started them across the Sink.

"Now, you see?" he said, "you see where Jinny goes? She heads straight for Stovepipe Hole. She knows she gits water there and that makes her hurry—and the others they tag along behind."

He took another drink from the Colonel's private stock and smiled as he smacked his lips. "It's hot to-day," he observed, squinting down his eyes and gazing ahead through the haze; "yes, it's hot for this time of year. But Virginia, you ride; and when Tom won't go no further, git off and he'll lead you to camp."

He went on ahead, swinging his club and laughing, and Heine trotted soberly at his side; and as he followed the trough of sand-wave after sand-wave, the rest plodded along behind. A dry, baking heat seemed to rise up from the ground and the air was heavy and still; the burros began to groan as they toiled up the slope and their flanks turned wet with sweat; and then, as they topped a wave, they felt the scorching breath of the Sink. It came in puffs like the waves of some great sea upon whose shores they had set their feet; a seething, heaving sea of heat, breathing death along its lonely beach. It struck through their clothes like a blast of wind or the shimmering glow of a furnace and at each drink of water the sweat damped their brows and trickled in streams down their faces. A wearied burro halted and, as Charley chased him with his club, the rest rushed ahead to escape; and then, as they came to the crest of the wave, Virginia's burro stopped dead.

"I'll lead him," she said as Wiley came up, and started after the pack. Wiley walked along beside her, for he saw that she was spent; and as her slender feet sank deep in the yielding sand she lagged and slowed down, and stopped. Then as she turned to take her canteen from the saddle, she swayed and clutched at the horn.

"You'd better ride," he said and, taking her in his arms, he lifted her to the saddle like a child. Then he walked along behind, flogging the burro into action, but still they lagged to the rear. The moon rose up gleaming and cast black shadows along the sand-dunes, and in the lee of the wind-wracked mesquite trees; and from the darkness ahead of them they could hear crazy shoutings as Charley belabored his fleeing animals. They showed dim and ghostly, as they topped a distant ridge; and then Wiley and Virginia were alone. The pack-train, the Colonel and Death Valley Charley had vanished behind the crest of a wave; and as Wiley stopped to listen Virginia drooped in the saddle and fell, very gently, into his arms.

He held her a moment, overcome with sudden pity, and then in a rush of unexpected emotion, he crushed her to his breast and kissed her. She was his, after all, to cherish, and protect; a frail reed, broken by his hand; and as he gave her water and bathed her face he remembered her weeping in the night. Her tears had been for him, whom she had followed so far only to find him harsh and unforgiving; and now, weak from grief, she had fainted in his arms, which had never reached out to console her. He gathered her to his breast in a belated atonement and as he kissed her again she stirred. Then he put her down, but when she felt his hands slacken she reached up and caught him by the neck. So she held him a while, until something gave way within him and he pressed his lips to hers.



CHAPTER XXXIV

A CLEAN-UP

A cool breeze drew down through Emigrant Wash and soothed the fever heat of Death Valley, and as the morning star rose up like a blazing beacon, Wiley carried Virginia to Stovepipe. They had sat for hours on the crest of a sand-hill, looking out over the sea of waves that seemed to ride on and mingle in the moonlight, and with no one to listen they had talked out their hearts and pledged the future in a kiss. Then they had gazed long and rested, looking up at the countless stars that obscured the Milky Way with their pin-points; and when the Colonel had found them Wiley was carrying her in his arms as if her weight were nothing.

They camped at Stovepipe that day while Virginia gained back her strength, and at last they came in sight of Keno. She was riding now and Wiley was walking, with his head bowed down in thought; but when he looked up she reached out, smiling wistfully, and touched him with her hand. But the Colonel strode ahead, his head held high, his eagle eyes searching the distance; and when people ran out to greet him he thrust them aside, for he had spied Samuel Blount in the crowd.

Blount was standing just outside the Widow's gate and a voice, unmistakable, was demanding in frantic haste the return of certain shares of stock. It was hardly the time for a business transaction, for her husband was returning as from the dead, but a sudden sense of her misused stewardship had driven the Widow to distraction.

"What now?" demanded the Colonel, as he appeared upon the scene and his wife made a rush to embrace him. "Is this the time for scolding? Why, certainly I was alive—why should anybody doubt it? You may await me in the house, Aurelia!"

"But Henry!" she wailed. "Oh, I thought you were dead—and this devil has robbed me of everything!"

She pointed a threatening finger at Blount, who stepped forward, his lower lip trembling.

"Why, how are you, Colonel!" he exclaimed with affected heartiness. "Well, well; we thought you were dead."

"So I hear!" observed the Colonel, and looked at him so coldly that Blount blushed and withdrew his outstretched hand. "So I hear, sir!" he repeated, "but you were misinformed—I have come back to protect my rights."

"He took all your stock," cried the Widow, vindictively, "on a loan of eight hundred dollars. And now he won't give it back."

"Never mind," returned the Colonel. "I will attend to all that if you will go in and cook me some dinner. And next time I leave home I would recommend, Madam, that you leave my business affairs alone."

"But Henry," she began, but he gazed at her so sternly that she turned and slipped away.

"And you, sir," continued the Colonel, his words ringing out like pistol shots as he unloosed his wrath upon Blount, "I would like to inquire what excuse you have to offer for imposing on my wife and child? Is it true, as I hear, that you have taken my stock on a loan of eight hundred dollars?"

"Why—why, no! That is, Colonel Huff——"

"Have you the stock in your possession?" demanded the Colonel peremptorily. "Yes or no, now; and no 'buts' about it!"

"Why, yes; I have," admitted Blount in a scared voice, "but I came by it according to law!"

"You did not, sir!" retorted the Colonel, "because it was all in my name and my wife had no authority to transfer it. Do you deny the fact? Well, then give me back my stock or I shall hold you, sir, personally responsible!"

Blount started back, for he knew the import of those dread words, and then he heaved a great sigh.

"Very well," he said, "but I loaned her eight hundred dollars——"

"Wiley!" called the Colonel, beckoning him quickly from the crowd. "Give me the loan of eight hundred dollars."

And at that Blount opened up his eyes.

"Oho!" he said, "so Wiley is with you? Well, just a moment, Mr. Huff." He turned to a man who stood beside him. "Arrest that man!" he said. "He killed my watchman, George Norcross."

"Not so fast!" rapped out the Colonel, fixing the officer with steely eyes. "Mr. Holman is under my protection. Ah, thank you, Wiley—here is your money, Mr. Blount, with fifty dollars more for interest. And now I will thank you for that stock."

"Do you set yourself up," demanded Blount with sudden bluster, "as being above the law?"

"No, sir, I do not," replied the Colonel tartly. "But before we go any further I must ask you to restore my stock. Your order is sufficient, if the certificates are elsewhere——"

"Well—all right!" sighed Blount, and wrote out an order which Colonel Huff gravely accepted. "And now," went on Blount, "I demand that you step aside and allow Wiley Holman to be taken."

The Colonel's eyes narrowed, and he motioned the officer aside as he laid his own hand on Wiley's shoulder.

"Every citizen of the state," he said with dignity, "has the authority to arrest a fugitive—and Mr. Holman is my prisoner. Is that satisfactory to you, Mr. Officer?"

"Why—why, yes," stammered the Constable and as the Colonel smiled Blount forgot his studied repose. He had been deprived in one minute of a block of stock that was worth a round million dollars and the sting of his great loss maddened him.

"You may smile, sir," he burst out, "but as sure as there's a law I'll put Wiley Holman in the Pen. And if you knew the truth, if you knew what he has done; I wonder, now, if you would go to such lengths? You might ask your wife how she has fared in your absence—or ask Virginia there! Didn't he send her as his messenger, to make a fake payment that would have deprived her and her mother of their rights? If it hadn't been for me your two hundred thousand shares wouldn't be worth two hundred cents. I ask Virginia now—didn't he send you to my bank——"

"What?" demanded the Colonel, suddenly whirling upon his daughter, but Virginia avoided his eyes.

"Yes," she said, "he did send me down—and I betrayed my trust. But it's just because of that that we'll stand by him now——"

"Virginia!" said the Colonel, speaking with painful distinctness. "Do I understand that you were—that woman? And did Mr. Blount here, by any means whatever, persuade you to violate your trust?"

"Yes, he did!" cried out Virginia, "but it was all my fault and I don't want Mr. Blount blamed for it. I did it out of meanness, but I was sorry for it afterwards and—oh, I wonder if I've got any mail." She broke away and dashed into the house and the Colonel brushed back his hair.

"A Huff!" he murmured. "My God, what a blow! And Wiley, how can we ever repay you?"

"Never mind," answered Wiley as he took the old man's hand. "I don't care about the money."

"No, but the wrong, the disgrace," protested the Colonel, brokenly, and then he flared up at Blount.

"You scoundrel, sir!" he cried. "How dared you induce my daughter to violate her sacred trust? By the gods, Sam Blount, I am greatly tempted——"

"It's come!" called Virginia, running gayly down the steps, but at sight of her father she stopped. "Well, there it is," she said, putting a paper in his hand. "It shows that I was sorry, anyway."

"What is this?" inquired the Colonel, fumbling feebly for his glasses, and Virginia snatched the paper away.

"It's a letter from my lawyers!" she said, smiling wickedly. "And we'll show it to Mr. Blount."

She took it over and put it in Blount's hands, and as he read the first line he turned pale.

"Why—Virginia!" he gasped and then he clutched at his heart and reached out quickly for the fence. "Why—why, I thought that was all settled! I certainly understood it was—and what authority had you to interfere?"

"Wiley's power of attorney," she answered defiantly, "I fired that crooked lawyer, after you'd got him all fixed, and hired a good one with my stock."

"My Lord!" moaned Blount, "and after all I'd done for you!" And then he collapsed and was borne into the house. But Wiley, who had been so calm, suddenly leapt for the letter and read it through to the end.

"Holy—jumping—Judas!" he burst out, running over to the Colonel who was standing with lack luster eyes. "Look here what Virginia has done! She's bought all Blount's stock, under that option I had, and cleaned him—down to a cent. She's won back the mine, and we can all go in together——"

"Virginia!" spoke up the Colonel, beckoning her sternly to him. "Come down here, I wish to speak to you."

She came down slowly and as her father began to talk the tears rose quickly to her eyes, but when Wiley took her hand she smiled back wistfully and crept within the circle of his arm.

THE END