books, I'm
going to make you a director at our next meeting."

Mary Fortune looked at him curiously and smiled once more, then rose
quickly and went to the safe.

"Very well," she said as she came back with the records, "but I wonder
if you quite understand."

"You bet I do," he said, laying off his big hat and spreading out the
papers and books. "Don't fool yourself there--we've got to be
friends--and that's why I'm going the limit."

He searched out the certificate where, to qualify him for director, he
had transferred one share of the Company stock to Buckbee, and filled
in a date on the back.

"Now," he went on, "Mr. Buckbee's stock is cancelled, and his
resignation automatically takes place. Friend Buckbee is all right,
but dear friend W. H. Stoddard might use him to slip something over.
It's We, Us and Company, you and me, little Mary, against Whitney H.
Stoddard and the world. Do you get the idea? We stand solid
together--two directors out of three--and the Tecolote is in the hollow
of our hand."

"Your hand!" she corrected but Rimrock protested and she let him have
his way.

"No, now listen," he said; "this doesn't bind you to anything--all I
want is that we shall be friends."

"And do you understand," she challenged, "that I can vote against you
and throw the control to Stoddard? Have you stopped to think that I
may have ideas that are diametrically opposed to your own? Have you
even considered that we might fall out--as we did once before, you
remember--and that then I could use this against you?"

"I understand all that--and more besides," he said as he met her eyes.
"I want you, Mary. My God, I'm crazy for you. The whole mine is
nothing to me now."

"Oh, yes, it is," she said, but her voice trailed off and she thought
for a minute in silence.

"Very well," she said, "you have a right to your own way--but remember,
this still leaves me free."

"You know it!" he exclaimed, "as the desert wind! Shake hands on
it--we're going to be friends!"

"I hope so," she said, "but sometimes I'm afraid. We must wait a while
and be sure."

"Ah, 'wait'!" he scolded. "But I don't like that word--but come on,
let's get down to business. Where's this Abercrombie Jepson? I want
to talk to him, and then we'll go out to the mine."

He grabbed up his hat and began to stride about the office, running his
hand lovingly over the polished mahogany furniture, and Mary Fortune
spoke a few words into the