mine worth
millions? That calls for something more than common honesty.

The fight for the Paymaster, and Wiley's race against time, was now on
every tongue, and as the value of the property went up there was a
sudden flurry in the stock. Men who had hoarded it secretly for eight
and ten years, men who had moved to the ends of the world, all heard of
the fabulous wealth of the new Paymaster and wrote in to offer their
stock. Not to offer it, exactly, but to place it on record; and others
began as quietly to buy. It was known that the royalties had piled up an
accruing dividend of at least twenty cents a share; and with the sale of
it imminent--and a greater rise coming in case there was no sale--there
would be a further increase in value. It was good, in fact, for thirty
cents cash, with a gambling chance up to five dollars; and the wise ones
began to buy. Men he had not seen for years dropped in on Wiley to ask
his advice about their stock; and one evening in his office, he looked
up from his work to see the familiar face of Death Valley Charley.

"Hello there, Charley," he said, still working. "Awful busy. What is it
you want?"

"Virginia wants her stock," answered Charley simply and blinked as he
stood waiting the answer. There was a war on now between the Huffs and
Holmans into which Wiley's father had been drawn; and since Honest John
had repudiated his son's acts and disclaimed all interest in his deal,
Charley knew that Wiley was bitter. He had cut off the Widow from her
one source of revenue but, when she had accused him of doing it for his
father, Wiley had forgotten the last of his chivalry. Not only did he
board all his men himself but he promised to fire any man he had who was
seen taking a meal at the Widow's. It was war to the knife, and Charley
knew it, but he blinked his eyes and stood firm.

"What stock?" demanded Wiley, and then he closed his lips and his eyes
turned fighting gray. "You tell her," he said, "if she wants her stock,
to come and get it herself."

"But she sent me to get it!" objected Charley obstinately.

"Yes, and I send you back," answered Wiley. "I gave her that stock
twice, and I made it what it is, and if she wants it she can come and
ask for it."

"And will you give it to her?" asked Charley, but Wiley only grunted and
went ahead with his writing.

It was apparent to him what was in the wind. The Widow had written to
demand of his father some return for the damage to her b