"Nearly a year after your father's death, I learned from a nurse in the hospital that in his last moments your father called for me, but Williams told him that I was badly hurt. He told your uncle that the real gold vein had been uncovered by the fatal blast, and that I was to be sure to work it for your sake and your mother's. Williams promised to tell me. I tried to get the nurse to go into court and swear to her statement, but she refused, and I found out afterward that Williams had bought her off. I went and looked at the tunnel; then he broke in, took samples, and, I believe, found them good. He locked the door with this lock, and since the day of the accident I have never seen inside. I have never wanted to. I don't know, but I have always been determined that he should not plunder your father's possessions. At the time of the accident he came into possession of all your father's papers. He let the assessments run out on the Cheyenne claim, and then jumped it for his own. Only last month he sold that claim to Beverly H. Pembroke for a consideration of eight thousand dollars. "He hates me, because he knows that one more move on his part and I'll place the matter in the hands of the law. I believe that he once hired an outlaw to kill me, but was unsuccessful. I can't prove it, but the facts look so. I have been afraid ever since I knew you were here that your mother, as the rightful heir to the property, would play into his hands. I feared he would offer to sell her share of this mine for her and, in reality, buy it himself. He could then, according to law, force me to sell my share or to buy his. If I refused to sell, he would ask a very large sum for his, and in that way force me to his bargain. His working the tunnel on the other side of the dyke this fall and winter is more to scare me into believing he will get the gold anyway, and that I may as well sell, than anything else. I have learned that they are having a great deal of trouble in their tunnel. It's very shaly and keeps caving from above. If he spent as much time and money caring for his sick wife as he has on this mine, she might have gotten well." Willis had been listening with breathless interest. "Go on," he begged. "Tell me all about everything, from the very beginning." "Lad, it's a long, long story. I'll do that later. Let's not talk any more about it now." "O, I must know about it. Don't stop. Tad, you can't possibly know what all this means to me." Tad rose and snapped the new lock in place on the door, while Old Ben cursed under his breath. "Of all the tarnal idiots," he was saying; "I never seed a man so sot in his ways. Tad, ain't ye even goin' to peek inside?" "No, Ben, not to-day. Perhaps some day," returned the old prospector, "and perhaps never."