“Oh!” she cried, breathless. “To think and to think of your coming back after all! No, I don't realize it--I can't. It will take me until morning to find out that you've really come back. I just know now that I'm happier than I ever was in my life before. Oh!” she cried, “do I need to tell you how glad I am? It's just too splendid for words. Do you know, I was thought to be the last person you had ever spoken to while alive, and the reporters and all--oh, but we must have such a talk when all is quiet again! And our dance--we've never had our dance. I've got your card yet. Remember the one you wrote for me at the tea--a facsimile of it was published in all the papers. You are going to be a hero when you get back to San Francisco. Oh, Ross! Ross!” she cried, the tears starting to her eyes, “you've really come back, and you are just as glad as I am, aren't you--glad that you've come back--come back to me?” Later on, in Ridgeway's room, Wilbur told his story again more in detail to Ridgeway and Jerry. All but one portion of it. He could not make up his mind to speak to them--these society fellows, clubmen and city bred--of Moran. How he was going to order his life henceforward--his life, that he felt to be void of interest without her--he did not know. That was a question for later consideration. “We'll give another cotillon!” exclaimed Ridgeway, “up in the city--give it for you, Ross, and you'll lead. It'll be the event of the season!” Wilbur uttered an exclamation of contempt. “I've done with that sort of foolery,” he answered. “Nonsense; why, think, we'll have it in your honor. Every smart girl in town will come, and you'll be the lion of--” “You don't seem to understand!” cried Wilbur impatiently. “Do you think there's any fun in that for me now? Why, man, I've fought--fought with a naked dirk, fought with a coolie who snapped at me like an ape--and you talk to me of dancing and functions and german favors! It wouldn't do some of you people a bit of harm if you were shanghaied yourselves. That sort of life, if it don't do anything else, knocks a big bit of seriousness into you. You fellows make me sick,” he went on vehemently. “As though there wasn't anything else to do but lead cotillons and get up new figures!” “Well, what do you propose to do?” asked Nat Ridgeway. “Where are you going now--back to Magdalena Bay?” “No.” “Where, then?” Wilbur smote the table with his fist. “Cuba!” he cried. “I've got a crack little schooner out in the bay here, and I've got a hundred thousand dollars' worth of loot aboard of her. I've tried beach-combing for a while, and now I'll try filibustering. It may be a crazy idea, but it's better than dancing. I'd rather lead an expedition than a german, and you can chew on that, Nathaniel Ridgeway.”