ruggled to keep it down.

"Is that all?" he demanded and without waiting for the answer he reached
out and caught her by the arm. "Virginia," he said, "I've tried to be
good to you, but maybe you don't appreciate it. And maybe I've made a
mistake. There's something about you when I'm around that reminds me of
a man with a grouch--only a man would speak out his mind. Now I've given
you a chance to clean up twenty thousand dollars and I expect something
more than: 'No, thanks!'"

"Well, what _do_ you expect?" she asked, struggling feebly against
his grasp.

"I expect," he answered, "that you'll state your grievance and tell me
why you won't have me?"

"And if I do, will you let me go?"

"When I get good and ready," he responded grimly. "I don't know whether
I'm in love with you or not."

"Well, my grievance," she went on defiantly, "is that you went to work
deliberately and robbed me and mother of our mine. And as for winning
_me_, that's one thing you can't steal--and I'll kill you if you
don't let go of that hand!"

"Yes," he said, "I've heard that before--it seems to run in the family.
But don't you think for a minute that I'm afraid of getting killed--or
that I'm trying to steal you, either. If you were an Indian squaw you
might be worth stealing, because I could beat a little sense into your
head; but the way things are now I'll just turn you loose--and kindly
keep off my ground."

He flung back her hand and stepped out of the trail but Virginia did not
pass. Her breast heaved tumultuously and she turned upon him as she
sought for a fitting retort; but while they stood panting, each
glowering at the other, there was a crash from inside the old mill. Its
huge bulk was lit up by a flash of light which went out in Stygian
darkness and as they listened, aghast, the ground trembled beneath them
and a tearing roar filled the air. It began at the stone-breaker and
went down through the mill, like the progress of a devastating host, and
as Wiley sprang forward, there was a terrifying smash which seemed to
shake the mill to its base. Then all was silent and as he looked around
he saw Virginia dancing off down the trail.

CHAPTER XXIII

ON DEMAND

If there was anything left of his mill but the frame, Wiley's ears had
played him false; and yet he stood and looked after Virginia. This
grinding crash, this pandemonium of destruction which had left him sick
with fear, had put joy into her dancing feet. Yes,