The heights and depths of life are sounded by emotions–cold reason lags behind. As thought cannot compass, so words cannot describe the anguished spirit’s flight; and whether it soars to ecstasy or sinks to despair it comes back wide-eyed and silent. So any action which has been prompted by passion cannot be explained by a calculating mind, and to seek a reason where none exists is to stray still farther from the truth. Virginia Huff was poor and waited on the table for what she could eat and get to wear; and when she returned stock which was worth twelve hundred dollars without even a note of thanks it was not for any reason of the mind. It was a reason of the feelings, the soul, the human ego, which drives our minds and bodies to their tasks; a reason that soared up like a flaming aurora and stabbed the darkened sky with hate and passion. It was nothing to reason about, and yet Wiley reasoned. He put down the stocks and lit his lamp and examined the package carefully. Then he looked inside for some note of explanation and paused Wiley sat down by the fire and tried to account for it. He imagined himself a woman, young and beautiful, but poor; working hard, as Virginia now worked, for her board and keep. Before her there was nothing–her father was dead or lost, her mother a hopeless scold, her fortune irretrievably gone–and yet she closed the only door out. As When he had had her mother arrested for coming into his office and demanding–what was it she had demanded? He remembered the six-shooter, and the deputy and Blount, and the Widow’s rage and tears; and Virginia’s return and all she had said to him–but what was it her mother had demanded? Her stock! All her stock! The stock she had refused to sell for ten cents a share and then had turned around and put up with Blount as security on a quick-action note. She had demanded it all back, without reason, without compensation, simply because she was a woman with a gun; and because he had invoked the law to protect him in his rights Virginia had sworn she would kill him. Wiley rose up swiftly and pulled the curtain across the window, and then he considered the matter again. It was not like Virginia to resort to any violence–she had been humiliated too often by her mother’s–but she must still think he had deprived her of her rights. By what process of reasoning could they fix the blame on him for this stock which had been Well, of course he had deceived them about the mine. He had known it contained scheelite the moment he picked up that white rock that Virginia had placed in her collection, but naturally he had not announced it from the house-tops. With the Widow as a partner, or even as a stockholder, the best-natured man in the state of Nevada could not have worked the Paymaster at a profit. For that reason alone he had been fully justified in letting her freeze herself out; and if Virginia had taken his advice–but then, the poor girl had been distracted. She had been worn out and discouraged, hag-ridden by her mother and facing a trip to the city; and she had sold out for what she could get. She was a good girl, a brave girl, and a sweet and lovely one too; and it was foolish to blame her for anything. The thing to do, after all, was to find ways and means of bringing her back to her own. Just a word from Virginia and he could change her whole life, he could get back all her stock and her mother’s as well and pour money into their laps–but first he must win her love. He must teach her to trust him, break down her suspicion and show her that he was her friend. The road was bad out across the desert, and on through Vegas to the ranch, but he came thundering back the next night. He had left the mine to run itself, for his thoughts were of Virginia, but as he slowed down at the sand-wash and listened for the pumps he noticed that the engine had stopped. Well, he had an engineer and that was his business–to keep the sump-hole pumped out; perhaps he had shut down for repairs. But the big thing, after all, was to restore Virginia her pets and win his way to a place in her heart. He drove boldly up the street and stopped before the house, but nobody came to the door. He waited There was trouble in the engine-house. He knew that the minute he saw the dancing torches in the dark, and he went up the trail on the run; but when he saw the wreckage, and the gear-wheel dismounted, he burst into a wailing curse. The mine had been all right, pumps operating, hoist running, when he had left the day before; but the minute he turned his back- “What’s the matter?” he demanded and then, pushing the engineer aside, he flashed a torch on the wreck. Wedged in the gearing of the shattered gear-wheel was a pair of engineer’s overalls. They had jammed tight in the teeth and the resistless driving of the engine had cracked the great gear-wheel like an eggshell. Held solid by its base in the bolted concrete there had not been a half-inch’s play and, since something must give, and the opposing wheel had stood, the enormous casting had smashed. The engineer and his helpers were pottering about, trying guiltily to remove the cause of the accident, but one look was enough to tell Wiley Holman that his mine was closed down for “Whose overalls are those?” he asked at last as the men sought to evade his eye and the engineer himself confessed ownership. “They’re an old pair of mine,” he explained, “that got caught when I was wiping up the grease.” “What? Wiping up grease when the machinery was in motion? Why didn’t you wait until it stopped?” “Well–I didn’t; that’s all. There was a big puddle of grease gathering dirt underneath there–and I thought I’d wipe it up.” “I see,” observed Wiley and his eyes narrowed down as he caught the aroma of whiskey. “Well, clear up this mess,” he said at last and hurried to his office to telephone. A single line of wire stretched out across the plain, connecting Keno with Vegas and the world, and within half an hour he had dictated a rush order to be wired to his supply-house in Los Angeles. If money would buy it he would grab a new gear-wheel and have it shipped out by express; but if there was none in stock he would have to wait for it; and the machine-shops were months behind. Yet his whole mine was shut down on account of this accident and, if he only had the money, he could almost afford to buy a new engine and be done with it. He stopped and thought if there was one in the country that he could get hold of, second-hand, and then he thrust the matter aside. The problem But was it a miracle? A swift stab of suspicion made Wiley’s heart stand still. Was this the first treacherous move in Blount’s battle to win back the mine? Had Blount, or some agent, suggested to the engineer that an accident would be followed by a reward; and then had not the engineer, when no one was looking, fed his overalls into the gearings? He was a surly young brute and he met Wiley’s eyes with a stare that bordered on defiance, yet there was nothing to be gained by accusing him. If Blount had bribed his men it was best to get rid of them without the faintest suggestion of suspicion; and then take on a new crew, shipped in from San Francisco or some equally distant place. Wiley went underground with his men, opening up the air-cocks in the pumps, and bringing out the powder and steel; and then the next morning, just before the stage went out, he gave them all their time. They had a certain constraint, a sullen silence in his presence, that argued them |