res to secure the
fortune for herself. Or she might have been influenced by a will
stronger than her own--the will of an unscrupulous man. There are many
contingencies, all probable, as you choose to analyse them."

"But why should this person wish to banish me from the country
altogether? I am no more dangerous here than I would be anywhere in
Europe. And then think of the means they would have employed to get me
away from Tinkletown. Have I not been lost to the world for years?
Why--"

"True; but I am quite convinced, and I think Mr. Crow agrees with me,
that the recent move was made necessary by the demands of one whose
heart is not interested, but whose hand wields the sceptre of power
over the love which tries to shield you. Any other would have cut off
your life at the beginning."

"That's my idee," agreed Anderson solemnly.

"I don't want the fortune!" cried Rosalie. "I am happy here! Why can't
they let me alone?"

"I tell you, Miss Gray, unless something happens to prevent it, that
woman will some day give you back your own--your fortune and your name."

"I can't believe it, Mr. Bonner. It is too much like a dream to me."

"Well, doggone it, Rosalie, dreams don't last forever!" broke in
Anderson Crow. "You've got to wake up some time, don't you see?"

CHAPTER XXV

As the Heart Grows Older

Bonner's eagerness to begin probing into the mystery grew as his
strength came back to him. He volunteered to interest his uncle in the
matter, and through him to begin a systematic effort to unravel the
tangled ends of Rosalie's life. Money was not to be spared; time and
intelligence were to be devoted to the cause. He knew that Rosalie was
in reality a creature of good birth and worthy of the name that any man
might seek to bestow upon her--a name given in love by a man to the
woman who would share it with him forever.

The days and nights were teaching him the sacredness of a growing
attachment. He was not closing his eyes to the truth. It was quite as
impossible for big, worldly Wick Bonner to be near her and not fall a
victim, as it was for the crude, humble youth of Tinkletown. His heart
was just as fragile as theirs when it bared itself to her attack. Her
beauty attracted him, her natural refinement of character appealed to
him; her pureness, her tenderness, her goodness, wrought havoc with his
impressions. Fresh, bright, as clear-headed as the June sunshine, she
was a revelation to him--to Bonner,