its hapless prey and drags it away to its lair. Was he not the
master? Why should he allow her childish prattle to stand in the way
of his desires. For years, Handsome had not known female society save
that of those wretched outcasts who infest the mining camps. He had
caroused with them and quarreled with them. He had even loved one of
them--after the rough and ready fashion of the _veldt_. She was a
Spaniard, a tall handsome woman, with large black eyes and the temper
of a fury. She had killed her husband in a drunken brawl, and on
leaving prison had gone to South Africa. She met the gambler one night
in a gambling house, and, without as much as asking for an
introduction, she went up to him and, in a characteristic Spanish
style, gave him a hearty kiss on both cheeks. It was her way of
notifying her female associates that, henceforth, the big miner was her
man. Handsome accepted the challenge, and for a couple of years they
lived as happily together as can two adventurers who are in constant
hot water with the police. One day, in a fit of drunken jealousy, she
struck him. Furious with rage, he seized her by the neck. He did not
mean to harm her; it was his giant strength that was to blame. Anyhow
her neck was broken and the coroner called it an accident. For a week
or so, Handsome was really sorry. She was the only woman he had ever
cared for. She at least was a woman.

But this slip of a girl, with her childish prattle and aristocratic
airs, was quite different. Accustomed to the rougher ways of the camp,
her fine manners and refined graces at first had rather intimidated
him. He did not feel at home with her. He felt awkward and ill at
ease. Yet, for all that, she was a woman, too--a woman of his own
race, desirable, tempting. When Francois had first suggested that he
impersonate his brother and enjoy his fortune, he had said nothing
about his brother's wife. Perhaps he reserved her for his master,
Keralio. At the thought, a pang of jealousy went through him. If
Keralio, why not he? Evidently Keralio had been stalking the game, for
she complained of his conduct and had dismissed him from the house.
Yet, in what position was he to frustrate Keralio in any of his
schemes? He had him in his power; he was completely at his mercy. He
allowed him to masquerade in New York as the millionaire, but he was
the real master of the Traynor home. Even now, Francois might be
spying on their actions,