"What, you great, big coward!" stormed the Widow in a fury. "Did you run and complain to the sheriff?" "No, I walked," said Wiley, "and on one leg at that. But I might as well warn you that next time you make a gun-play you're likely to break into jail." "You're a coward!" she taunted. "You're standing in with Blount to beat me out of my mine. First you sneak off with my gun, so I can't protect my rights, and then Stiff Neck George comes up and jumps the Paymaster!" "The hell!" burst out Wiley, rising up in his seat and looking across at the mine. "Yes, the hell," she returned, "and he's warned off all comers and is holding the mine for Blount!" "For Blount!" he echoed and, seeing him roused at last, the Widow became subtly provocative. "For Samuel J. Blount," she repeated impressively. "He--he's got all my stock on a loan." "Oh!" observed Wiley, and as she raved on with her story he rubbed his chin in deep thought. "Yes, I went down to see him and he wouldn't buy it, so I left it as collateral on a loan. And then he came out here and looked over the mine again and told Stiff Neck George to stand guard. They're fixing to pump out the water." "Oho!" exclaimed Wiley, and his eyes began to kindle as he realized what Blount had done. Then reaching for the pistol that lay handy beside his leg, he leapt out with waspish quickness, only to stop short as he hurt his lame foot. "Go on!" hissed the Widow, advancing to his shoulder and pointing the way up the trail. "He stays right there by the dump. The mine is yours; go put him off--I would, if I had my gun." "Aw, pfooey!" he exclaimed, suddenly turning back and clamoring into his seat. "I've got one game leg already. Let 'im have the doggoned mine." "What? Are you going to back out? Well, you are a good one--and it stands in your name, this minute!" "Yes, and it isn't worth--that!" he said with conviction, and snapped his finger in the air. "He can have it. You can tell Blount, the next time you see him, he can buy in that tax title for the costs." He paused and muttered angrily, gazing off towards the dump where crooked-necked George stood guard, and then he hopped out to crank up. "Want a ride?" he asked, as he saw Virginia watching him and she hesitated and shook her head. "Come on," he smiled, casting aside his black mood, "let's take a little spin--just down on the desert and back. What's going on--getting ready to move?"