"Will you sell out for that?" demanded Rimrock instantly. "Will you take _forty_ for what you hold? You won't? Then what are you offering it to me for? Haven't I got the advantage of control?" "Well, perhaps you have," answered Stoddard doubtfully and turned and looked straight at Mary. "Miss Fortune," he said, "I don't know you intimately, but you seem to be a reasonable woman. May I ask at this time whether it is your present intention to hold your stock, or to sell?" "I intend to hold my stock," replied Mary very quietly, "and to vote it whichever way seems best." "Then am I to understand that you don't follow Mr. Jones blindly, and that he has no control over your stock?" Mary nodded, but as Stoddard leaned forward with an offer she hurried on to explain. "But at the same time," she said in her gentlest manner and with a reassuring glance at her lover, "when we think what hardships Mr. Jones had endured in order to find this mine, and all he has been through since, I think it is no more than right that he should remain in control." "Aha! I see!" responded Stoddard cynically, "may I enquire if you young people have an understanding?" "That is none of your business," she answered sharply, but the telltale blush was there. "Ah, yes, excuse me," murmured Stoddard playfully, "a lady might well hesitate--with him!" He cast a teasing glance in the direction of Rimrock and perceived he had guessed right again. "Well, well," he hurried on, "that does make a difference--it's the most uncertain element in the game. But all this aside, may I ask you young people if you have a top price for your stock. I don't suppose I can meet it, but it's no harm to mention it. Don't be modest--whatever it is!" "A hundred million dollars!" spoke up Rimrock promptly, "that's what I value my share of the mine." "And you?" began Stoddard with a quizzical smile, but Mary seemed not to hear. It was a way she had, when a thing was to be avoided; but Stoddard raised his voice. "And you, Miss Fortune?" he called insistently. "How much do you want for your stock?" She glanced up, startled, then looked at Rimrock and dropped her eyes to the table. "I don't wish to sell," she answered quietly and the two men glared at each other. "Mr. Jones," began Stoddard in the slow, measured tones of a priest who invokes the only god he knows, "I'm a man of few words--now you can take this or leave it. I'll give you--fifty--million--dollars!" "Nothing doing!" answered Rimrock. "I don't want to sell. Will you take fifty millions for yours?" For a moment Stoddard hesitated, then his face became set and his voice rasped harshly in his throat. "No!" he said. "I came here to buy. And you'll live to wish you had sold!" "Like hell!" retorted Rimrock. "This has been my day. I'll know where I'm at, from now on." CHAPTER XVI THE TIGER LADY