"I couldn't believe it. L. W.? I'd made him. He used to be nothing but a cowman; and here he was in town, a banker. No, I couldn't believe it; and when I did it was too late. They'd taken possession of the property and had a court order restraining me from going onto the grounds. Not only did they claim the mine, but every dollar it had produced, the mill, the hotel, everything! And the judge backed them up in it--what kind of a law is that?" He leaned forward and looked her in the eyes and Mary Fortune realized that she was being addressed not as a woman, impersonally, but as a human being. "What kind of a law is that?" he demanded sternly and took the answer for granted. "That cured me," he said. "After this, here's the only law I know." He tapped his pistol and leaned back in his chair, smiling grimly as she gazed at him, aghast. "Yes, I know," he went on, "it don't sound very good, but it's that or lay down to McBain. The judges are no better--they're just promoted lawyers----" He checked himself for she had risen from her chair and her eyes were no longer scared. "Excuse me," she said, "my father was a judge." And Rimrock reached for his hat. "Whereabouts?" he asked, groping for a chance to square himself. "Oh--back East," she said evasively, and Rimrock heaved a sigh of relief. "Aw, that's different," he answered. "I was just talking about the Territory. Well, say, I'll be moving along." He rose quickly, but as he started for the door a rifle-cartridge fell from his torn pocket. It rolled in a circle and as he stooped swiftly to catch it the bullet came out like a cork and let spill a thin yellow line. "What's that?" she asked as he dropped to his knees; and he answered briefly: "Gold!" "What--real gold?" she cried rapturously, "gold from a mine? Oh, I'd like----" She stopped short and Rimrock chuckled as he scooped up the elusive dust. "All right," he said as he rose to his feet, "I'll make you a present of it, then," and held out the cartridge of gold. "Oh, I couldn't!" she thrilled, but he only smiled encouragingly and poured out the gold in her hand. "It's nothing," he said, "just the clean-up from a pocket. I run across a little once in a while." A panic came over her as she felt the telltale weight of it, and she hastily poured it back. "I can't take it, of course," she said with dignity, "but it was awful good of you to offer it, I'm sure." "Aw, what do we care?" he protested lightly, but she handed the corked cartridge back. Then she stood off and looked at him and the huge man in overalls became suddenly a Croesus in her eyes. "Is that from your mine?" she asked at last and of a sudden his bronzed face lighted up.