skin a dead flea." "Honest John!" challenged Wiley, looking up from his eating with an ugly glint in his eye, but the Widow was far away. "Yes, Honest John Holman," she sneered, without noticing his resentment. "They called him Honest John. Did you ever know one of these 'Honest John' fellows yet that wasn't a thorough-paced scoundrel? Well, old John Holman he threw in with Blount to deprive Colonel Huff of his profits and, with these street certificates everywhere and no one recording their transfers, the Colonel was naturally deceived into thinking that the selling was from the outside. But all the time, while they were selling their stock and hammering down the price of Paymaster, they were telling the Colonel that it was only temporary and he ought to support the market. So he bought in what he could, though it wasn't much, as he was interested in other properties, and then when the crash came he was left without anything and Blount and Holman were rich. The great panic came on and Blount foreclosed on everything, and then Mr. Huff fell out with John Holman and they closed the Paymaster down. That was ten years ago and, with the litigation and all, the stock went down to nothing. The whole camp went dead and all the folks moved away--but have you ever been through the mine? Well, I want you to go--that ground has hardly been scratched!" Wiley Holman glanced up doubtfully from under his heavy eyebrows and the Widow became voluble in her protests. "No, sir," she exclaimed, "I certainly ought to know, because the Colonel was Superintendent; and when he had been drinking--the town was awful, that way--he would tell me all about the mine. And that was his phrase--he used it always: 'That ground has hardly been scratched!' But when he fell out with old John Holman he--well, there was an explosion underground and the glory-hole stope caved in. They cleaned it out afterwards and hunted around, but all the rich ore was gone; but I'm just as certain as I'm sitting here this minute the Colonel knew where there was more! He never would admit it--he was peculiar, that way, he never would discuss his business before a woman. But he wouldn't deny it, and when he had been drinking--well, I know it's there, that's all!" She paused for her effect but Mr. Wiley, the mining man, was singularly unimpressed. He continued eating in moody silence and the Widow tried the question direct. "Well, what do you think about it?" she demanded bluffly. "Would you like to consider the property?" "No, I don't think so," he answered impersonally. "I'm on my way up north." "Well, when you come back, then. Since my husband is gone I'm so sick and tired of it all I'll consider any offer--for cash."