malignant, terrifying Bethune, as he sat regarding her with
his sneering smile. The girl's first impulse was to turn and fly, but
as if divining her thoughts, the man pushed nearer, and she saw that
his eyes gleamed horribly between lids drawn to slits. Had he
discovered that she had tricked him with a false claim? If not why the
glare of hate and the sneering smile that told plainer than words that
he had her completely in his power, and knew it.

"So, my fine lady--we meet again! We have much to talk about--you and
I. But, first, about the claim. You thought you were very wise with
your lying about not having a map. You thought to save the whole loaf
for yourself--you thought I was fool enough to believe you. If you had
let me in, you would have had half--now you have nothing. The claim is
all staked and filed, and the adjoining claims for a mile are staked
with the stakes of my friends--and you have nothing! You were the
fool! You couldn't have won against me. Failing in my story of
partnership with your father, I had intended to marry you, and failing
in that, I should have taken the map by force--for I knew you carried
it with you. But I dislike violence when the end may be gained by
other means, so I waited until, at last, happened the thing I knew
would happen--you became careless. You left your precious map and
photograph in plain sight upon your little table--and now you have
nothing." So he had not discovered the deception, but, through
accident or design, had seized this opportunity to gloat over her, and
taunt her with her loss. His carefully assumed mask of suave
courtliness had disappeared, and Patty realized that at last she was
face to face with the real Bethune, a creature so degenerate that he
boasted openly of having stolen her secret, as though the fact
redounded greatly to his credit.

A sudden rage seized her. She touched her horse with the spur: "Let me
pass!" she demanded, her lips white.

The man's answer was a sneering laugh, as he blocked her way: "Ho! not
so fast, my pretty! How about the Samuelson horse raid--your part in
it? Three of my best men are in hell because you tipped off that raid
to Vil Holland! How you found it out I do not know--but women, of a
certain kind, can find out anything from men. No doubt Clen, in some
sweet secret meeting place, poured the story into your ear, although
he denies it on his life."

"What do you mean?"

"Ha! Ha! Injured innocence!" He leered knowi