She avoided his question. "We're too low here at Junction. Mother ought to go a couple of thousand feet higher. She needs rest and a change. I've sent her out to the ranch." "You're not running the house alone?" "Why, cert!--that is, except my brother's wife is taking mother's place in the kitchen. I'm runnin' the rest of it just as I've been doin' for three years." He looked his admiration before he uttered it. "You're a wonder!" "Don't you think it! How does it happen you're down to-day? You said Saturday." "I've sold out--signed the deeds to-day. I'm out of the liquor trade forever." She nodded gravely. "I'm glad of that. I don't like the business--not a little bit." He took this as an encouragement. "I knew you didn't. Well, I'm neither saloon-keeper nor gambler from this day. I'm a miner and a capitalist--and all I have is yours," he added, in a lover's voice, bending a keen glance upon her. The girl was standing very straight behind her desk, and her face did not change, but her eyes shifted before his gaze. "You'd better go in to supper while the biscuit are hot," she advised, coolly. He had tact enough to take his dismissal without another word or glance, and after he had gone she still stood there in the same rigid pose, but her face was softer and clouded with serious meditation. It was wonderful to think of this rich and powerful man changing his whole life for her. Winchell, the young barber, came in hurriedly, his face full of accusation and alarm. "Was that Haney who just came in?" he asked, truculently. "Yes, he's at supper--want to see him?" "See him? No! And I don't want _you_ to see him! He's too free with you, Bert; I don't like it." She smiled a little, curious smile. "Don't mix it up with _him_, Ed--I'd hate to see your remains afterwards." "Bert, see here! You've been funny with me lately." (By funny he meant unaccountable.) "And your mother has been hinting things at me--and now here is Haney leaving his business to come down the middle of the week. What's the meaning of it?" "It isn't the middle of the week. It's Friday," she corrected him. He went on: "I know what he keeps coming to see you for, but for God's sake don't you think of marrying an old tout and gambler like him." "He isn't old, and he isn't a gambler any more," she significantly retorted. "What do you mean?" "He's sold out--clean as a whistle." "Don't you believe it! It's a trick to get you to think better of him. Bert, don't you dare to go back on me," he cried out, warningly--"don't you dare!" The girl suddenly ceased smiling, and asserted herself. "See here, Ed, you'd better not try to boss me. I won't stand for it. What license have you got to pop in here every few minutes and tell me what's what? You 'tend to your business and you'll get ahead faster." He stammered with rage and pain. "If you throw me down--fer that--old tout, I'll kill you both."