jealousy, intrigue and love. A single word from her and this
impenetrable mystery might be cleared up like mist before the sun. And
she ought to help him because it was through her, indirectly, that all
this trouble had occurred. Until her arrival there had never been a
moment when he had seriously worried over Mary. She had scolded, of
course, about his gambling and drinking and they had had their bad half
hours, off and on; but never for an instant had there been the
suggestion of a break in their business affairs. About that, at least,
she had always been reasonable; but now she was capable of anything.
It would not surprise him to get a telegram from Stoddard that he was
coming out to take over the control; nor to discover later, across the
directors' table, Mary Fortune sitting grimly by. He knew her too
well! If she once got started! But he passed--it was up to Mrs.
Hardesty.

They met at dinner, the lady being indisposed during the day as a
result of their strenuous trip, but she came down now, floating
gracefully in soft draperies and Rimrock knew why he had built those
broad stairs. He had thought, in jail, that he was building them for
Mary, but they were for Mrs. Hardesty after all. She was a queen no
less in her filmy gown than in the tiger-skin cloak that she wore, and
Rimrock dared to use the same compliment on her that he had coined for
Mary Fortune. They dined together in a secluded corner on the best
that the chef could produce--and for a Chinaman, he accomplished
miracles--but Rimrock said nothing of his troubles. The talk was
wholly of gay, distant New York, and of the conflict that was forming
there.

For a woman of society, compelled by her widowhood to manage her own
affairs, it was wonderful to Rimrock how much she knew of the
intricacies of the stock market and of the Exchange. There was not a
financier or a broker of note that she did not know by name, and the
complex ways by which they achieved their ends were an open book to
her. Even Whitney H. Stoddard was known to her personally--the
shrewdest intriguer of them all--and yet he, so she said, had a human
side to him and let her in on occasional deals. He had been a close
friend of her husband, in their boyhood, and that probably accounted
for the fact; otherwise he would never have sold her that Tecolote.

"But he's got a string on it," suggested Rimrock shrewdly; but she only
drooped her eyelashes and smiled.

"I never ca