nd got out his racer that had lain there idle for months, but as his
motor began to thunder, a head popped up and he saw Stiff Neck George on
the ridge. He too had a rifle and, as he saw Wiley watching him, he
dropped back and hid from sight.

"Oho!" said Wiley, and, leaving his machine, he strode angrily back to
the mine. So that was their game, to get him to leave and then slip in
and jump his mine. Perhaps it was all arranged with the men he had
working for him and George would not even have a fight. Neither his
foremen nor the guards were men he would care to trust in a matter
involving millions--and yet something was wrong in Vegas. There was
treachery somewhere or they would not cut the line to keep him from
getting the news. He lingered irresolutely, his hands itching for the
steering wheel, his eyes searching for Stiff Neck George.

There was a feud between them--he had braved George's killing gun and
rushed in and kicked him down the dump. Would George, then, withhold his
hand? But, down in Vegas, Blount was framing up some game to deprive him
of title to his mine. Wiley weighed them in the balance, the two forces
against him, and decided to stay with the mine. As long as he held it
there were lawyers a-plenty to prove that his title was good, but if
Stiff Neck George jumped it he would have to kill him to get back
possession of the property. Or rather, he would have to fight him, for
George was a gunman with notches on the butt of his six-shooter. No, he
would have to get killed, or give up the Paymaster, whether Blount was
right or wrong.

He set his teeth and settled down to endure it--but he knew that
Virginia would not fail him. He had given her the money, she knew what
to do, and as sure as she hoped to save her father, he knew that she
would do it. His part was to hold down the mine. The men came and went,
the engine puffed and panted, and the long, dragging hours went by. As
the darkness came on Wiley stalked in the shadows, looking out into the
night for Stiff Neck George; but nothing stirred, the work went on as
usual, and at midnight he gave up the search. His option had expired and
either the mine was his or the title had reverted to the Company. There
was nothing to watch for and so he slept, but at dawn his telephone
jangled.

Wiley rose up breathlessly and took down the receiver but no one
answered his call. The 'phone was dead and yet it had rung--or was it
only a dream? He hung up in disgus