st
why you've come."

In spite of himself Ronicky smiled. "Lady," he said, "if a rat was in
a trap d'you think he'd stop very long between a chance of getting
clear and a chance to tell how he come to get into the place?"

"I have a perfectly good reason for asking," she answered. "Even if
you now get out of the house safely you'll try to come back later on."

"Lady," said Ronicky, "do I look as plumb foolish as that?"

"You're from the West," she said in answer to his slang.

"Yes."

She considered the straight-looking honesty of his eyes. "Out West,"
she said, "I know you men are different. Not one of the men I know
here would take another chance as risky as this, once they were out of
it. But out there in the mountains you follow long trails, trails that
haven't anything but a hope to lead you along them? Isn't that so?"

"Maybe," admitted Ronicky. "It's the fever out of the gold days, lady.
You start out chipping rocks to find the right color; maybe you never
find the right color; maybe you never find a streak of pay stuff, but
you keep on trying. You're always just sort of around the corner from
making a big strike."

She nodded, smiling again, and the smiles changed her pleasantly, it
seemed to Ronicky Doone. At first she had impressed him almost as a
man, with her cold, steady eyes, but now she was all woman, indeed.

"That's why I say that you'll come back. You won't give up with one
failure. Am I right?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno. If the trail fever hits me
again--maybe I would come back."

"You started to tell me. It's because of Caroline Smith?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to talk to me," said the girl. "As a matter of fact I
shouldn't be here listening to you. But, I don't know why, I want to
help you. You--you are in love with Caroline?"

"No," said Ronicky.

Her expression grew grave and cold again. "Then why are you here
hunting for her? What do you want with her?"

"Lady," said Ronicky, "I'm going to show you the whole layout of the
cards. Maybe you'll take what I say right to headquarters--the man
that smiles--and block my game."

"You know him?" she asked sharply.

Apparently that phrase, "the man who smiles," was enough to identify
him.

"I've seen him. I dunno what he is, I dunno what you are, lady, but I
figure that you and Caroline Smith and everybody else in this house is
under the thumb of the gent that smiles."

Her eyes darkened with a shadow of alarm. "Go on,