solutely in.

"Oh, mother!" she burst out in a pleading, reproachful voice, "can't you
see that Wiley is sick? Well, what's the use of creating a scene when
it's likely to make him worse?"

"I don't care!" wailed the Widow. "I hope he dies. I wish I'd killed
him--I do!"

"You do not!" returned Virginia, and shook her reprovingly. "I declare,
I wonder what poor father would think if he heard how we'd treated a
guest. Now you go back to the house and don't you come out again until
Mr. Holman sends for you."

"You shut up!" burst out the Widow, pushing her brusquely aside. "I
guess I know what I'm about. But I'll fool you," she cried, whirling
about on Wiley as she started towards the door. "I'll sell my stock to
Blount!"

She paused for the effect but Wiley did not answer and she returned to
pursue her advantage.

"I know you!" she announced. "You and old Honest John--you're trying to
steal my mine. But I'm going to fool you, I'm going right down to Vegas
and sell every share to Blount!"

"Well, go to it," returned Wiley after a long, defiant silence, "and I
hope you stick him a-plenty!"

"Why, what's the matter?" inquired the Widow, brushing Virginia away
again and swaggering up to his bed. "I thought you and Blount were good
friends."

"Yeh, guess again," replied Wiley grimly. "I'll tell him the mine shows
up fine."

"Well, it does!" she asserted. "The Colonel said it wasn't scratched.
And didn't you steal that piece of quartz from Virginia? Oh, you gave it
back, eh? Well, how did it assay? I know you found _something_
pretty good!"

"How could I give it back, if I'd had it assayed?" asked Wiley with
compelling calm.

"Well what _did_ you come back for?" demanded the Widow,
triumphantly. "You must have figured to win somewhere."

"Yes, I did," sighed Wiley, "but I was badly mistaken. All I want now is
to get out of town."

"Well, how about your father? That offer he made me! Has he backed out
on that, too?"

"No, he hasn't," answered Wiley, "my father keeps his word. You can get
your money any time."

"Well, of all the crazy crooked deals," the Widow began to rave, and
then Wiley grabbed for the shotgun.

"It may be crazy!" he shouted savagely, "but believe me, it isn't
crooked. My father never did a crooked thing in his life, and you know
it as well as I do; and if it wasn't that you're such a crook
yourself----"

"Wiley Holman!" raged the Widow, but he rose up on his crutch and
shouldered h