The morning after found Rimrock without regrets and, for once, without a head. He had subtly judged, from something she had said, that Mary did not like whiskey breaths, nor strong cigars, nor the odors of the two combined. So, having certain words to speak in her ear, he had refrained, with the results as aforesaid. For the first time in her life she had looked him in the eye and acknowledged, frankly, that she liked him. But she had not kissed him--she drew the line there--and once more in his shrewd unsophisticated way he judged it was never done, in her set. He found her in the office when he appeared the next morning, with her harness over her head. It was the sign in a way that she was strictly business and all personal confidences were taboo, but Rimrock did not take the hint. It annoyed him, some way, that drum over her ear and the transmitter hung on her breast, for when he had seen her the evening before all these things had been set aside. "What? Still wearing that ear-thing?" he demanded bluffly and she flushed and drew her lips tight. It was a way she had when she restrained some quick answer and Rimrock hastened on to explain. "You never wore it last night and--and you could hear every word I said." "That was because I knew what you were going to say." She smiled, imperceptibly, as she returned the retort courteous and now it was Rimrock who blushed. Then he laughed and waved the matter aside. "Well, let it go at that," he said sitting down. "Gimme the books, I'm going to make you a director at our next meeting." Mary Fortune looked at him curiously and smiled once more, then rose quickly and went to the safe. "Very well," she said as she came back with the records, "but I wonder if you quite understand." "You bet I do," he said, laying off his big hat and spreading out the papers and books. "Don't fool yourself there--we've got to be friends--and that's why I'm going the limit." He searched out the certificate where, to qualify him for director, he had transferred one share of the Company stock to Buckbee, and filled in a date on the back. "Now," he went on, "Mr. Buckbee's stock is cancelled, and his resignation automatically takes place. Friend Buckbee is all right, but dear friend W. H. Stoddard might use him to slip something over. It's We, Us and Company, you and me, little Mary, against Whitney H. Stoddard and the world. Do you get the idea? We stand solid together--two directors out of three--and the Tecolote is in the hollow of our hand." "Your hand!" she corrected but Rimrock protested and she let him have his way. "No, now listen," he said; "this doesn't bind you to anything--all I want is that we shall be friends."