All waited breathlessly for Elsa’s answer. They knew her greed, or, rather, why she hoarded her money so closely, and were not so surprised, after all, when it came.

“No, I cannot.”

“Can’t? I should like to know why you can’t?” demanded John Benton, indignantly, though Mrs. Trent protested against his urgency by a nod of her head.

“It is for the little one. It is mine. I want it already.”

The ranch mistress at once extended the basket, but it was now the carpenter’s turn to object.

“Please, ‘admiral,’ not so fast. Let her tell us, first, how much money she lost.”

Elsa caught her breath. To save her life she could not have stated in exact figures the sum, because, though she had known to a dime before the robbery, at, and after that time, she had recklessly tossed aside the little that remained. This wasted portion belonged with the whole amount, and being as truthful as she was penurious, she hesitated. Her color came and went, as she looked anxiously into John’s face, realizing that he had laid a trap for her and caught her in it.

But the mistress confronted her, saying:

“Never mind that, Elsa. I do not blame you for refusing to try experiments with what you have so hardly earned and so nearly lost. These are certainly your own little money bags, as I judge from their knitted covers; but it is just possible there may have been other money added to that was taken from you. So, tell me as nearly as you can, what you had, and we will examine them all together.”

This was wise, and commended itself even to the eager Elsa, who stated promptly and proudly:

“Three t’ousand of the dollars it was. All gold. Big gold and littles ones. In them bags was lost entirely. In the others––I don’t know. Oh! I don’t know. It was much, much!”

It was Wolfgang’s turn to interpose, and he did so, sternly:

“Elsa, wife! Three thousand dollars, and I not know it! How dare you?”

“Ach! how not dare I? It was the new pick, or the new pushcart, or the new everything, is it not so? Well, then, if one would save one need not tell.”

Mrs. Trent’s face saddened, and, seeing this, Jessica impatiently exclaimed:

“Oh, I hate money! It’s always that which makes the trouble. It was about money that those New York folks made such wicked charges against my father. It was for a little money that you ‘boys’ were so quick to ruin ‘Forty-niner’s’ character. It was money, and the greed for it, that changed Antonio from a good to a bad man.”

“Hold on, captain. There wasn’t ever any ‘change’ in him. He was born that way.”

“He was born a baby, wasn’t he, John? All babies are good, I s’pose. It’s loving money has made Ferd do such dreadful things; and now, over a little money, Wolfgang and Elsa are quarreling, though I never heard them speak crossly to each other before. Oh, I hate it! Give it all back to her, mother dear, and let us forget all that Pedro said. I, for my part, hope his old copper mine will never be dug out.”

Some who heard her laughed, but the mother grew even graver than at first, and looked searchingly into her daughter’s face. Again there came to her mind the consciousness that the little girl was growing up in a strange fashion; seeming both too wise and too simple for her years. It could never be any different at Sobrante, where one and all conspired to spoil her, though innocently enough, and from pure affection. How could she, single-handed, combat these hurtful influences?

The answer came swiftly enough in a second thought: “Money.”

If there were but a little more of that power for good as well as evil in her possession she could send the child to some fine school and have her educated properly. The separation would be like death in life to herself, but what true mother ever thought of self where her child was concerned? Certainly, not Gabriella Trent. It was with a little sigh that she put her arm about Lady Jess and drew her to her side, saying:

“Here, daughter, you and John examine these bags together, while the rest of us look on and tally for you. I want Elsa to have her own, at once.”

They moved the books and papers from the table, and Jessica emptied the contents of the bags into 82 one gleaming heap near the big lamp, whose light gave an added radiance to the coins, making more than one pair of eyes sparkle and stare. None could remember ever to have seen so large an amount displayed outside a bank window.

Even John’s hands trembled slightly as he began to count the double eagles first, pushing each five of these toward his small co-laborer and reckoning:

“One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred––one thousand!”

“One thousand!” echoed Jessica, in turn handing the pile to her mother, while the others watched, counting each for himself in silence, ready to check any blunder that might be made.

That is, the men were silent, but Elsa and Aunt Sally rather disturbed the proceedings; the former, by eagerly reaching out for the piles as each was arranged before the mistress, and being as regularly rebuked by the latter.

“There you go again, woman! How can they count right if you don’t have patience? Keep your hands still, do,” said Mrs. Benton.

“Keep your tongue, mother, too. Two thousand!” rejoined John.

“Two––thousand!” cried Jessica, tallying. But her voice had now lost its impatience, and she began to have a very different feeling in regard to this “money,” which looked so real, and was so much needed at Sobrante. If Pedro’s “copper” could be transmuted into shining golden eagles, why, after all, she guessed she didn’t hate it quite so much.

“Three––thousand––and––ain’t half––touched yet!” gasped Samson, throwing up his great hands in a gesture of astonishment.

Elsa was also gasping then, and the expression of her face was changing into one from which Mrs. Trent involuntarily turned her eyes. Cunning and avarice predominated, and in the woman’s throat was a curious clicking sound, as if she had lost and were trying to find her voice. Which, when found, seemed not to belong to the good-natured Elsa, so changed it was:

“Ach, me! But I forgot already. I guess––it was not three t’ousand; it was two times so much. That was seven t’ousand, is it not? The money of this America––it so confuse, yes,” and she tapped her forehead with one fat finger, while her eyes grew beady, and seemed to shrink in size as they gazed upon the wealth she coveted.

But Wolfgang would have none of this. He was as honest as the sun, and, till that moment, had supposed his wife to be of one mind with him. Indeed, honest she had been, in thought and deed, until that terrible temptation was spread before her.

“Elsa! Elsa Winkler! Is it my wife you was and would lie––lie––for a bit of that rubbish!”

“‘Rubbish’ is good,” commented “Marty,” under his breath, but nobody smiled.

The woman cowered. Accustomed as she was to domineer over the seemingly weak-willed man, there had been times, within her memory, when he had thrown off her rule and asserted himself to a degree that terrified her. She had stumbled upon one of those times now, and sank back in her place with a deprecating gesture, advancing the flimsy protest:

“Are they not my bags, so? Sewed I them not with my own hands out of the skin of the little kid was killed? The covers I knitted with–––”

The miner raised his hand, and she dropped her eyes before him.

“Give her what belongs, if you will, good lady, and let us be gone,” he said, pulling his forelock respectfully to Mrs. Trent.

“Gone! Why no, Wolfgang, not to-night. It’s a long way, and you should wait till morning. Indeed, you should,” she replied, at the same time sending a questioning glance toward John Benton, and pushing toward Elsa all the empty bags and three of the thousand dollar piles.

For the carpenter nodded swift acquiescence, on his part longing to be rid of “them miserly Dutchmen, barring the man.”

Elsa rapidly recounted, and bestowed the eagles within their receptacles, and these again, wrapped in a handkerchief, within her bosom. Then, as coolly as if she had not made an unpleasant exhibition of herself, she turned to her hostess and smiled:

“I go now, mistress. I thank you already for one good time I have. It is to buy the mine, one day, for my child. I must be going. Yes, I must. The stew! Ach! how I forgot! The cat––it was a good stew, no? And the cat has eat the stew!”

“Then you’d better stew the cat!” suggested Marty, with a facetiousness to which she paid no heed.

Holding out her hand for Otto to take it, she commanded:

“Little heart, but come. It is in bed you should be, yes. Good-by, all,” adding in German, “May you sleep well!”

Wolfgang followed the retreating pair, but turned on the threshold to make his obeisance to the ranch mistress, and to say, “At your service, good lady. My pick and my head.” Then, bowing again toward all the company, he disappeared.

Everybody felt the relief of their departure, and Aunt Sally humorously threw a kiss after them, remarking, with a sniff:

“Blessed be nothing, if somethin’ is going to make a hog out of a decent woman. That there Elsy’d been content with half she got if she hadn’t seen the rest that heap. I’m a good deal like Jessie, here. I think money’s the root of all evil.”

“That ain’t an original observation, mother, though you do speak as if it was. Money’s the root of a pretty consid’able comfort, too; and I’d like to know, for one, where in creation all this that’s left came from,” returned John.

“There’s no doubt in my mind, that it came out of the Trent pocketbook, every dollar of it!” said Samson. “But how it came into Ferd’s fist is more’n I can guess. Seems if even a half-wit would steal from his own brother, and it must have passed through Antonio’s hands first.”

“Antonio’s brother!” cried Marty, incredulously.

“That’s the true word. Pedro knew it, and the master knew it. The ‘admiral’ heard it, first, to-day; along with that other secret about the copper. Ain’t any harm in mentioning it, is there?” said Samson.

The lady laughed, and answered:

“Even if there were the harm is done, herder. But that’s right. I wish no secrets at Sobrante. I like to feel that we are all one family in interests and affection, as my husband wished. And now 86 remains this gold. What is to be done with it? Where shall we bestow it that it may be both safe and ready when needed?”

Aunt Sally immediately went and closed the door and locked it; then fastened the windows and pulled the shades over them. At which a shout arose that the old lady heeded not a whit. She clasped her hands over her breast and her round face turned pale, as she whispered shrilly enough for all to hear:

“We’re undone! We’re all undone! We’re a passel of fools––and––and––– Oh, suz!”

Down she dropped into a chair, and there was no more laughter. She was not a timid woman, and her fright was evident. Her son stepped to her side and laid his hand on her shaking shoulder, demanding:

“What ails you, mother? What did you see? Why did you lock the doors?”

“I––I–––”

“Quit chattering your teeth together. What did you see?”

“Oh, son! I seen a––a––ghost!”

“Trash!”

Her courage began to return, and her anger to rise. She retorted promptly:

“No trash! A ghost. A spirit! As sure as I’m a-settin’ here this minute; the spirit of––of–––”

It aggravated John that she should pause and peep behind her, to be sure the windows were still covered.

“The spirit of what tomfoolery has possessed you, mother, I’d like to know? What’s the use of 87 scarin’ folks half to death? As if we hadn’t had enough things happen without your cuttin’ up, too!”

“Hold your tongue, John Benton, you sassy boy. As sure as I’m alive, I saw the ghost of Antonio Bernal peeking in at that open window afore I shut it. He was so white I couldn’t tell him from paper, and so thin I ’peared to see clean through him.”

“Pshaw, mother! You’re overtired, and for once in your life really nervous. I reckon it’s the sight of more money than ever come your way before. Well, forget it. ’Tisn’t yours nor mine. We’ve no cause to worry. I’ll step and get you a drink of water and then you’ll feel all right, and would better go to bed.”

“I don’t want water, and I shan’t go to bed. I shan’t close my eyes this night, John Benton, and you needn’t touch to tell me so.”

“All right. Stay awake if you like. It’s nothing to me,” answered the exasperated man, who, in spite of his strong common sense, had been more startled than he cared to admit, even to himself. But, glancing at Mrs. Trent and Jessica, he now felt that it would be wiser to express his own fear, which was of nothing supernatural.

“Mother’s upset, ‘admiral,’ and don’t you let her upset you, too. The fact is, we’re a very careless set at Sobrante, where everything is––or used to be––all open and above board. It’s a new thing for keys to be turned on this ranch, and it’s a new thing for us to go suspecting one another of sneak notions. I, for one, am ashamed enough of the way I’ve felt about old Ephraim Marsh, and if he don’t show up pretty soon, I’ll make a special trip 88 to Los Angeles to tell him so. Even if I have to foot it the heft of the way.

“Howsomever, all the world ain’t as honest as them that had the honor of knowin’ Cassius Trent. There’s been a power of strangers on these premises durin’ these last days; and it stands to reason that among ’em one villain might have crept in. I ain’t sayin’ there was. I’ll never accuse nobody again––’cept––’cept–––”

Here the honest fellow interrupted himself with a laugh; remembering his ingrained suspicion of the two Bernals, which he would never even try to overcome. But he went on again:

“Mother thinks she’s seen somethin’, and like enough she has. There might be some scamp hangin’ around; and if there was, and he looked through that window and saw all this gold, I don’t wonder his face was ghosty-lookin’, nor––Somebody stop me talking and answer this: Where’s the safest place to stow that pile?”

For a moment nobody replied. Mrs. Trent was wishing, most heartily, that the money had never come into her possession, since she did not know to whom she should restore it; and beginning to feel, with Jessica, that “money” did carry discord and danger with it.

But the little captain was now all eagerness, and exclaimed:

“Oh! how I wish I’d seen it! Aunt Sally, I never saw a ghost in all my life, never! I thought they were just make-believes, but if you saw one, of course they’re true. Do you s’pose we could see it again if we went out to look? Will you go with me?”

“I? I! Well, I guess not. Not a step will I step–––”

“But several steps I’ll step, Mrs. Benton. I advise the money going into the office safe, that old Ephraim uses when he’s at home. One of us better camp out on the lounge in the room there till we get rid of whoever’s cash that is. I’ll bunk there myself, if you like, Mrs. Trent, after I step outside and see if all’s serene with my prisoner,” said Samson, cheerfully.

“May I go with you, Samson? May I, mother?” asked Jessica.

The mother’s consent was somewhat reluctant, for now she could not bear to have her darling out of sight. Yet if anybody on earth was to be trusted with so precious a charge it was the herder. Besides, she was annoyed at this talk of “ghosts,” and knew that the shortest way to convince Jessica how nonsensical it was, would be by allowing her to go out and seek for them herself.

But Samson answered cordially:

“You do me proud, little one. Suppose you take your rifle, and then, if we see any specter you can pin it to the mission wall, and we’ll have a show, charging ten pins’ admission.”

They went out, laughing and gay; the child clinging to the giant’s hand, and hoping that she might really see the phantom of Aunt Sally’s story, for she had no fear concerning it. They came back, five minutes later, looking grave and seriously alarmed.