"Well, you wanted to buy the stock--you were crazy to get hold of it--and now, when I'm willing, you won't take it!" "No, that's right," agreed Wiley, leaning back against his pillow. "And now, what are you going to do about it?" "I'm going to kill you!" shrieked the Widow in a frenzy. "I'm going to _make_ you take it! I declare, it seems like every single soul is against me--and me a poor helpless woman!" She sank back in a chair and began to sob hysterically and Wiley looked about for the old shotgun. It was far too short, but it had served once as a crutch, and in a pinch it must serve him again. Keno was no place for him, he saw that very plainly, and it was better to risk the long drive across the desert than to stay with this weeping virago. If she didn't kill him then she would kill him later, and he was powerless to strike back in defense. She would take advantage of every immunity of her sex to obtain her own way in the end. He located the gun--it was down behind his bed where he had dropped it when they helped him in--but as he was fishing it up the door burst open and Virginia stood looking at her mother. Behind her appeared Death Valley Charley, his eyes blinking fearfully; but at sight of the Widow he ducked around the corner while Virginia came resolutely in. "Oh, mother!" she burst out in a pleading, reproachful voice, "can't you see that Wiley is sick? Well, what's the use of creating a scene when it's likely to make him worse?" "I don't care!" wailed the Widow. "I hope he dies. I wish I'd killed him--I do!" "You do not!" returned Virginia, and shook her reprovingly. "I declare, I wonder what poor father would think if he heard how we'd treated a guest. Now you go back to the house and don't you come out again until Mr. Holman sends for you." "You shut up!" burst out the Widow, pushing her brusquely aside. "I guess I know what I'm about. But I'll fool you," she cried, whirling about on Wiley as she started towards the door. "I'll sell my stock to Blount!" She paused for the effect but Wiley did not answer and she returned to pursue her advantage. "I know you!" she announced. "You and old Honest John--you're trying to steal my mine. But I'm going to fool you, I'm going right down to Vegas and sell every share to Blount!" "Well, go to it," returned Wiley after a long, defiant silence, "and I hope you stick him a-plenty!" "Why, what's the matter?" inquired the Widow, brushing Virginia away again and swaggering up to his bed. "I thought you and Blount were good friends." "Yeh, guess again," replied Wiley grimly. "I'll tell him the mine shows up fine." "Well, it does!" she asserted. "The Colonel said it wasn't scratched. And didn't you steal that piece of quartz from Virginia? Oh, you gave it back, eh? Well, how did it assay? I know you found _something_ pretty good!" "How could I give it back, if I'd had it assayed?" asked Wiley with compelling calm.