ny's properties, it was necessary that she should visit the
mine, though she was far from keen for the trip. She came down at
last, heavily veiled from the sunshine, and Rimrock helped her into his
machine; but, being for the moment in a critical mood and at war in his
heart against all women, he looked at her with different eyes. For the
best complexion that was ever laid on will not stand the test of the
desert and in the glare of white light she seemed suddenly older and
pitifully made up and painted. Even the flash of pearly teeth and the
dangerous play of her eyes could not hide the dark shadows beneath; and
her conversation, on the morning after, seemed slightly artificial and
forced.

Perhaps, in that first flight of their unleashed souls when they sat
close in the balcony alone, they had reached a height that could never
be attained when the sun was strong in their eyes. They crouched
behind the windshield, for Rimrock drove recklessly, and went roaring
out across the desert and between the rush of the wind and the sharp
kick of the chuck-holes conversation was out of the question. Then
they came to the camp, with its long rows of deal houses and the rough
bulk of the concentrator and mill; and even this, to Mrs. Hardesty's
wind-blown eyes, must have seemed exceedingly Western and raw.

A mine, at the best, is but a hole in the ground; and that which
appears on top--the shaft-houses and stacks and trestles and dumps--is
singularly barren of interest. The Tecolote was better than most, for
there were open cuts with steam shovels scooping up the ore, and miners
driving holes into the shattered formation and powder-men loading
shots. Rimrock showed it all faithfully, and they watched some blasts
and took a ride in the gliding cars, but it was hardly a trip that the
average lady would travel from New York to take. So they both breathed
a sigh when the ordeal was over and the car had taken them home.

At the door of the hotel Mrs. Hardesty disappeared, which gave Rimrock
a chance for a drink, but as he went past the desk the clerk called him
back and added to the burden of his day.

"What's these?" demanded Rimrock as the clerk handed over some keys,
but he knew them all too well.

"The keys to the office, sir. Miss Fortune left quite suddenly and
requested me to deliver them to you."

"Where'd she go?" he asked, and, not getting an answer, he burst into a
fit of cursing. He could see it all now. She