It was a revelation to Rimrock, the laughing way she restrained him; and yet it baffled him, too. They sat there quite late, each delving into the mystery of the other's personality and mind, and as the lower lights were switched off and the alcove grew dimmer, the talk became increasingly intimate. A vein of poetry, of unsuspected romance, developed in Rimrock's mind and, far from discouraging it or seeming to belittle it, Mrs. Hardesty responded in kind. It was a rare experience in people so different, this exchange of innermost thoughts, and as their voices grew lower and all the world seemed far away, they took no notice of a ghost. It was a woman's form, drifting past in the dark corridor where the carpet was so thick and soft. It paused and passed on and there was a glint of metal, as of a band of steel over the head. Except for that it might have been any woman, or any uneasy ghost. For night is the time the dead past comes back and the soul mourns over what is lost--but at dawn the spirits vanish and the work of the world goes on. Mary Fortune appeared late at the Company office, for she had very little to do; and even when there she sat tense and silent. Why not? There was nothing to do. Jepson ran the mine and everything about it, and Rimrock attended to the rest. All she had to do was to keep track of the records and act as secretary to the Board of Directors. They never met now, except perfunctorily, to give Rimrock more money to spend. He came in as she sat there, dashing past her for some papers, and was dashing out when she spoke his name. "Oh, Mr. Jones," she said and, dimly noting its formality, he paused and questioned her greeting. "Oh, it's Mister again, is it?" he observed stopping reluctantly. "Well, what's the matter now?" "Yes, it's Mister," she said, managing to smile quite naturally. "You know you told me your name was 'Mister'--since you made your pile and all that--but, Mister, I'm going away." "Going away!" exclaimed Rimrock, suddenly turning to look at her; and then he came hurriedly back. "Say, what's the matter?" he asked uneasily, "have I done something else that is wrong?" "Why, no," she laughed, "what a conscience you have! I'm going East for an operation--I should have gone long ago. Oh, yes, I've been thinking about it for quite a while; but now I'm going to go. You don't know how I dread it. It's very painful, and if it doesn't make me any better it's likely to make me--." "Oh," said Rimrock thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, "well, say, when do you want to go? I'm going East myself and there ought to be one of us----" "So soon?" enquired Mary and as Rimrock looked at her he caught a twinkle in her eyes. Not of merriment exactly, but of swift understanding and a hidden, cynical scorn. "What d'ye mean?" he blustered. "Ain't I got a right----"