the answer for granted.
"That cured me," he said. "After this, here's the only law I know."
He tapped his pistol and leaned back in his chair, smiling grimly as she gazed at him, aghast.
"Yes, I know," he went on, "it don't sound very good, but it's that or lay down to McBain. The judges are no better—they're just promoted lawyers——"
He checked himself for she had risen from her chair and her eyes were no longer scared.
"Excuse me," she said, "my father was a judge." And Rimrock reached for his hat.
"Whereabouts?" he asked, groping for a chance to square himself.
"Oh—back East," she said evasively, and Rimrock heaved a sigh of relief.
"Aw, that's different," he answered. "I was just talking about the Territory. Well, say, I'll be moving along."
He rose quickly, but as he started for the door a rifle-cartridge fell from his torn pocket. It rolled in a circle and as he stooped swiftly to catch it the bullet came out like a cork and let spill a thin yellow line.
"What's that?" she asked as he dropped to his knees; and he answered briefly:
"Gold!"
"What—real gold?" she cried rapturously, "gold from a mine? Oh, I'd like——"
She stopped short and Rimrock chuckled as he scooped up the elusive dust.
"All right," he said as he rose to his feet, "I'll make you a present of it, then," and held out the cartridge of gold.
"Oh, I couldn't!" she thrilled, but he only smiled encouragingly and poured out the gold in her hand.
"It's nothing," he said, "just the clean-up from a pocket. I run across a little once in a while."
A panic came over her as she felt the telltale weight of it, and she hastily poured it back.
"I can't take it, of course," she said with dignity, "but it was awful good of you to offer it, I'm sure."
"Aw, what do we care?" he protested lightly, but she handed the corked cartridge back. Then she stood off and looked at him and the huge man in overalls became suddenly a Croesus in her eyes.
"Is that from your mine?" she asked at last and of a sudden his bronzed face lighted up.
"You bet it is—but look at this!" and he fetched a polished rock from his pocket. "That's azurite," he said, "nearly forty per cent. copper! I'm not telling everybody, but I find big chunks of that, and I've got a whole mountain of low-grade. What's a gold mine compared to that?"
He gave her the rich rock with its peacock-blue coloring and plunged forthwith into a description of his find. Now at last he was himself and to his natural enthusiasm was added the stimulus of her spellbound, wondering eyes. He talked on and on, giving all the details, and she listened like one entranced. He told of his long trips across the desert, his discovery of the neglected mountain of low-grade copper ore; and then of his enthusiasm when in making a cut he encountered a pocket of the precious peacock-blue azurite. And then of his scheming and hiring American-born Mexicans to locate the whole body of ore, after which he engaged them to do the discovery work and later transfer the claims to him. And now, half-finished, with no money to pay them, and not even food to keep them content, the Mexicans had quit work and unless he brought back provisions all his claims would go by default.
"I've got a chance," he went on fiercely, "to make millions, if I can only get title to those claims! And now, by grab, after all I've done for 'em, these pikers won't advance me a cent!"
"How much would it cost?" she asked him quickly, "to finish the work and pay off the men?"
"Two thousand dollars," he answered wearily. "But it might as well be a million."
"Would—would four hundred dollars help you?"
She asked it eagerly, impulsively, almost in his ear, and he turned as if he had been struck.
"Don't speak so loud," she implored him nervously. "These women in the hotel—they're listening to everything you say. I can hear all right if you only whisper—would four hundred dollars help you out?"
"Not of your money!" answered Rimrock hoarsely. "No, by God, I'll never come to that!"
He started away, but she caught him by the arm and held him back till he stopped.
"But I want to do it!" she persisted. "It's a good thing—I believe in it—and I've got the money!"
He stopped and looked at her, almost tempted by her offer; then he shook his great head like a bull.
"No!" he said, talking half to himself. "I won't do it—I've sunk low enough. But a woman? Nope, I won't do it."
"Oh, quit your foolishness!" she burst out impatiently, "I guess I know my own mind. I came out to this country to try and recoup myself and I want to get in on this mine. No sentiment, understand me, I'm talking straight business; and I've got the money—right here!"
"Well, what do you want for it?" he demanded roughly. "If that's the deal, what's your cut? I never saw you before, nor you me. How much do you want—if we win?"
"I want a share in the mine," she answered instantly. "I don't care—whatever you say!"
"Well, I'll go you," he said. "Now give me the money and I'll try to make both of us rich!"
His voice was trembling and he followed every movement as she stepped back behind her desk.
"Just look out the window," she said as he waited; and Rimrock turned his head. There was a rustle of skirts and a moment later she laid a roll of bills in his hand.
"Just give me a share," she said again and suddenly he met her eyes.
"How about fifty-fifty—an undivided half?" he asked with a dizzy smile.
"Too much," she said. "I'm talking business."
"All right," he said. "But so am I."
CHAPTER IV
AS A LOAN
Rimrock Jones left town with four burro-loads of powder, some provisions and a cargo of tools. He paid cash for his purchases and answered no question beyond saying that he knew his own business. No one knew or could guess where he had got his money—except Miss Fortune, and she would not tell. From the very first she had told herself that the loan was nothing to hide, and yet she was too much of a woman not to have read aright the beacon in Rimrock's eyes. He had spoken impulsively, and so had she; and they had parted, as it turned out, for months.
The dove that had crooned so long in the umbrella tree built a nest there and cooed on to his mate. The clear, rainless winter gave place to spring and the giant cactus burst into flower. It rained, short and hard, and the desert floor took on suddenly a fine mat of green;
