and the colonel threatens all kinds of things, telling
us frankly that it will break the Arcadia Company financially when we
flood that mine. I have heard him tell Mr. Pelham to his face that the
water should never flow over any dam the company might build here; that
he would stick at nothing to defend his property. Mr. Pelham says all
this is only bluff; that the mine is worthless. But the fact remains
that the colonel is immensely rich--and is apparently growing richer."

"Has nobody ever seen the inside of this Golconda of a mine?" queried
Ballard.

"Nobody from our side of the fence. As I've said, it is guarded like the
sultan's seraglio; and the Mexicans might as well be deaf and dumb for
all you can get out of them. Macpherson, who was loyal to the company,
first, last, and all the time, had an assay made from some of the stuff
spilled out on the dump; but there was nothing doing, so far as the best
analytical chemist in Denver could find out."

For the first time since the strenuous day of plan-changing in Boston,
Ballard was almost sorry he had given up the Cuban undertaking.

"It's a beautiful tangle!" he snapped, thinking, one would say, of the
breach that must be opened between the company's chief engineer and the
daughter of the militant old cattle king. Then he changed the subject
abruptly.

"What do you know about the colonel's house-hold, Loudon?"

"All there is to know, I guess. He lives in state in his big country
mansion that looks like a World's Fair Forest Products Exhibit on the
outside, and is fitted and furnished regardless of expense in its
interiors. He is a widower with one daughter--who comes and goes as she
pleases--and a sister-in-law who is the dearest, finest piece of fragile
old china you ever read about."

"You've been in the country house, then?"

"Oh, yes. The colonel hasn't made it a personal fight on the working
force since Braithwaite's time."

"Perhaps you have met Miss--er--the daughter who comes and goes?"

"Sure I have! If you'll promise not to discipline me for hobnobbing with
the enemy, I'll confess that I've even played duets with her. She
discovered my weakness for music when she was home last summer."

"Do you happen to know where she is now?"

"On her way to Europe, I believe. At least, that is what Miss
Cauffrey--she's the fragile-china aunt--was telling me."

"I think not," said Ballard, after a pause. "I think she changed her
mind and decided to spend th