you. But I can't tell you--that's all."

"Then I'll just go down stairs again," he decided, "and you can finish
your talk with Harris. I'll keep the rest of the folks from interrupting
you as I did. But if you want me, little girl, you know I'll not be far
away."

The tears came in her eyes. His persistent kindness to her made her both
ashamed and glad, and she reached out her hand.

"Wait," she said, "maybe I have something to tell you," and she unfolded
the paper again and showed it to Harris.

"Shall I tell him? Would you rather he would be the man to do the
business?" she asked. "You know I'm willing, but I don't know enough
myself. Do you want him to be the man?"

Harris nodded his head.

With a look of relief on her face, she turned to Overton, who watched them
wonderingly.

"What sort of man is it you want? or what is it you want to tell me?"

"Only that I've found a plan of the ground where he made that rich find
the letter told of," she answered, with a bit of a tremble in her voice.
"He's never been able to look after it himself, and was afraid to trust
any one. But now--"

"And you have the plan--_you_, 'Tana?"

"Yes, I have it. I think I even know where the place is located.
But--don't ask me anything about how I got the plan. He knows, and is
satisfied--that is all."

"But, 'Tana, I don't understand. You are giving me surprises too thick
this evening. If he has found a rich yield of ore, and has taken you into
partnership, it means that you will be a rich woman. A streak of pay ore
can do more for you than a ranger like myself; so I guess you can afford
to drop me."

Her face fell forward in her hands again. The man in the chair looked at
her and then turned his eyes pleadingly to the other man, who remained
standing close to the door.

Overton recognized the pleading quality of the glance, and was filled with
amazement by it. Witchery seemed to have touched the stranger when
paralysis touched him, else he would not so quickly have changed from his
suspicion of the girl into that mute pleading for her.

She was trying so hard to keep back the tears, and in the effort her jaws
were set and her brows drawn together stormily. She looked to him as she
had looked in the lodge of Akkomi.

"You don't trust me," she said at last; "that's why you won't help us. But
you ought to, for I've never lied to you. If it's because I'm in it that
you won't have anything to do with the mine, I'll leave. I w