"Yes, I'm sorry, Mrs. Huff," interposed Blount, smiling gently. "We were just discussing your case. But it often happens that the best of us err in judgment, and in this case I've been caught worse than you were. Yes, I must admit that when I first heard about this tungsten and realized that I had sold out for nothing, I was moved for the moment to resent it; but under the circumstances----" "Aw, what are you talking about?" demanded the Widow scornfully. "Don't you think I can see through your game? You pretend to be enemies until you get hold of my stock and then you come out into the open. I always knew you were partners, but now I can prove it; because here you are, thick as thieves." "Yes, we're friendly," admitted Blount with a painful smile at Wiley, "but Wiley owns the mine. That is, he owns a bond and lease on the property, with the option of buying for fifty thousand dollars. And then besides that, I regret to say, he has an option on all my stock." "Oh! Yes!" scoffed the Widow. "You've been cleaned by this whipper-snapper that's just a few months out of college! He's taken away your mine and your stock and everything--but of course you don't mind a little thing like that. But what I want to know, and I came here to find out, is which of you has got my stock--because I'll tell you right now----" she whipped out her pistol and brandished it in the air--"I'll tell you right now I intend to get it back or kill the one or both of you!" Blount's lips framed a lie, and then he glanced at Wiley, who was standing with his hand by his gun. "Well, now, Mrs. Huff," he began at a venture, "I--perhaps this can all be arranged." "No! I want that stock!" cried the Widow in hot anger, "and I'm going to get it, too!" "Why--why yes," stammered Blount, "but you see it was this way--I had no idea of the value of the stock. And so when Wiley came to see me I gave him an option on it for--well, I believe it was five cents a share." "Ah!" triumphed the Widow, whirling to train her gun on Wiley, "so now I've got you, Mr. Man! You've been four-flushing long enough but I've got you dead to rights, and I want--that--Paymaster--stock!" She threw down on him awkwardly, but as the pistol was not cocked, Wiley only curled his lip and smiled indulgently, with a restraining glance at his guard. "Yes, Mrs. Huff," he agreed quite calmly, "I don't doubt you want it back. You want lots of things that you'll never get from me by coming around with these gun-plays. So put up that gun before you pull it off and I'll tell you about your husband's stock." "My _husband's_ stock!" cried the Widow in surprise, letting the six-shooter wobble down to her side. "Well I'd just like to tell you that that stock is _mine_, and furthermore----"