go, but George stopped him. "Wait a minute. You are going
to marry her?"

"Yes."

"And she is very--rich."

"Her money does not enter into the matter."

"Some people might think it did. There are those who might be unkind
enough to call you a--fortune-hunter."

"I shall be called nothing of the kind by those who know me."

"But there are so many who don't know you."

"I wonder," said Randy, fiercely, "why I am staying here and letting you
say such things to me. There is nothing you can say which can hurt me.
Becky knows--God knows, that I wish she were as poor as poverty. Perhaps
money doesn't mean as much to us as it does to you. I wish I had it,
yes--so that I could give it to her. But love for us means a tent in the
desert--a hut on a mountain--it can never mean what we could buy with
money."

"Does love mean to her," George's tone was incisive, "a tent in the
desert, a hut on a mountain?"

Randy's anger flamed. "I think," he said, "that I should beg Becky's
pardon for bringing her name into this at all---- And now, will you give
me her fan?"

"When she asks for it--yes."

Randy was breathing heavily. "Will you give me her--fan----"

The mist from the fountain blew cool against his hot cheeks. The water
which old Neptune poured from his shell flashed white under the stars.

"Let her ask for it----" George's laugh was light.

It was that laugh which made Randy see red. He caught George's wrists
suddenly in his hands. "Drop it."

George stopped laughing. "Let her ask for it," he said again.

Randy twisted the wrists. It was a cruel trick. But his Indian blood was
uppermost.

"Drop it," he said, with another twist, and the fan fell.

But Randy was not satisfied. "Do you think," he said, "that I am through
with you? What you need is tar and feathers, but failing that----" he
did not finish his sentence. He caught George around the body and began
to push him back towards the fountain.

George fought doggedly--but Randy was strong with the muscular strength
of youth and months of military training.

"I'll kill you for this," George kept saying.

"No," said Randy, conserving his breath, "they don't--do
it--in--these--days----"

He had Dalton now at the rim and with a final effort of strength he
lifted him--there was a splash, and into the deeps of the great basin
went George, while the bronze Neptune, and the bronze dolphins, and the
nymphs with flowing hair, splashed and spouted a welcoming cho