him,
mystified him, and he was convinced that there must have been some
other motive behind her refusal to become his father's beneficiary. He
watched her closely for a moment and then, thinking he had discovered
the motive, he said in a voice of dry mockery:

"I reckon you didn't take it because there was nothin' to take."

"Besides the land and the buildings, he left about twenty thousand
dollars in cash," she informed him quietly.

"Where is it?" demanded Calumet quickly.

Betty smiled. "That," she said dryly, "is what I want to talk to you
about." Again the consciousness of advantage shone in her eyes.
Calumet felt that it would be useless to question her and so he leaned
back in his chair and regarded her saturninely.

"Soon after your father became afflicted with his last sickness,"
continued Betty; "he called me to him and took me into his confidence.
He talked to me about you--about the way he had treated you. Both he
and your mother had been, he said, victims of uncontrollable tempers,
and were beset with elemental passions which he was certain had
descended to you. In fact, because of the hatred your mother bore
you--" She hesitated.

"Well, that too, belongs to the story which you will hear about Taggart
when you have the patience," she continued. "But your father repented;
he saw the injustice he had done you and wanted to repair it. He was
certain, though, that this curse of temper was deep-seated in you and
he wanted to drive it out. He felt that when you finally came home you
would need reforming, and he did not want you to profit by his money
until you forgave him. He had strange notions regarding your
reformation; he declared he would not take your word for it, but would
insist on a practical demonstration. When he had fully explained his
ideas on the subject he made me swear that I would carry them out."
She paused and looked at Calumet and he saw that the expression of
advantage that had been in her eyes all along was no longer a subtle
expression, but plain and unmistakable.

Calumet watched her intently, silently, his face a battleground for the
emotions that rioted within him. The girl watched him with covert
vigilance and he felt that she was enjoying him. And when finally she
saw the rage die out of his eyes, saw the color come slowly back into
his cheeks and his face become a hard, inscrutable mask, she knew that
the coming struggle between them was to be a bitter one.

"