e rich."

"Yes, and that's why I want you!" burst out Rimrock impulsively. "You
can keep me from blowing my money."

"Absolutely convincing--from the man's point of view. But what about
the woman's? And if that's all you want you don't have to have me.
You'll find lots of other girls just as capable."

"No, but look! I mean it! I've got to have you--we can throw in our
stock together!"

There was a startled pause, in which each stared at the other as if
wondering what had happened, and then Mary Fortune smiled. It was a
very nice smile, with nothing of laughter in it, but it served to
recall Rimrock to his senses.

"I think I know what you mean," she said at last, "but don't you think
you've said enough? I like you just as much; but really, Rimrock,
you're not very good at explaining."

CHAPTER XV

A GAME FOR BIG STAKES

The next thirty days--before the stockholders' meeting--were spent by
Rimrock in trying to explain. In spite of her suggestion that he was
not good at that art he insisted upon making things worse. What he
wanted to say was that the pooling of their stock would be a
happy--though accidental--resultant of their marriage; what he actually
said was that they ought to get married because then they would stand
together against Stoddard. But Mary only listened with a wise,
sometimes wistful, smile and assured him he was needlessly alarmed. It
was that which drove him on--that wistful, patient smile. Somehow he
felt, if he could only say the right words, she would lean right over
and kiss him!

But those words were never spoken. Rimrock was worried and harassed
and his talk became more and more practical. He was quarreling with
Jepson, who stood upon his rights; and Stoddard had served notice that
he would attend the meeting in person, which meant it had come to a
showdown. So the month dragged by until at last they sat together in
the mahogany-furnished Directors' room. Rimrock sat at the head of the
polished table with Mary Fortune near by, and Stoddard and Buckbee
opposite. As the friend of all parties--and the retiring
Director--Buckbee had come in the interest of peace; or so he claimed,
but how peace would profit him was a question hard to decide. It might
seem, in fact, that war would serve better; for brokers are the sharks
in the ocean of finance and feed and fatten where the battle is
fiercest.

Whitney Stoddard sat silent, a tall, nervous man with a face lined d