he's wasting his money back there--I thought it
would be a kindness."

"Yes, yes, Mr. Lockhart," interrupted Stoddard impatiently, "we all
know the goodness of your heart. Do I hear a motion to adjourn?"

He shifted his keen, commanding eyes to Mary, who nodded her head in
return. She was watching L. W. as he stood there sweating, with the
anguish of that Judas-like thought. He had betrayed his friend, he had
sold him for gold; and, already, he was sorry.

"Second the motion," said Stoddard. "All in favor say 'Ay!' The
meeting stands adjourned."

He rose up quickly and gathering up his papers, abruptly left the room.
Jepson followed as quickly and L. W., still talking, found himself
alone with the girl. She was gazing at him strangely and as he paused
enquiringly she went over and held out her hand.

"I understand, Mr. Lockhart," she said, smiling comfortingly. "I
understand just how you feel. It _was_ a kindness--I felt so
myself--and that's why I voted as I did."

The staring eyes of L. W. suddenly focused and then he seized her hand.
"God bless you," he cried, crushing her fingers in his grip. "You'll
make it right on the books? God bless you, then; I wouldn't sell out
that boy for all the money in the world."

He broke off suddenly and dashed from the room while Mary gazed
pensively after him. She too, in a way, had betrayed her friend; but
she had not done it for gold.

As secretary of the Company and the Board of Directors it devolved upon
Mary Fortune to notify Rimrock of the passed dividend. She knew as
well as L. W. knew that it would be a bitter blow to him, but she felt
no pity or regret. The money that would otherwise be wasted in New
York would be diverted to the construction of the smelter, and if he
found the loss a hardship he had only himself to thank. She went into
her office and shut the door, but, simple as the letter seemed, she was
unable to put it on paper. Three times she tried, but at each attempt
her pent-up anger burst forth and the coldest and most business-like
words she could summon seemed packed with hate and resentment. She
gave up at last and was sitting listlessly when she heard voices in the
outer room. It was Jepson and Stoddard, and as she listened closer she
could make out what they said.

"I've got a report here," said the voice of Jepson, "that I'd like to
show you--alone."

There was an impatient slamming of desk drawers and then the clerk
spoke up--