Meantime, he was studying Laura at close range. He found that she was weak rather than really vicious. There was much of the spoiled child in her make-up. Her bringing up had been bad. In different environments she might have been entirely different. There was much in her that attracted him. He liked her merry disposition, her girlish ingenuousness. Such a naive nature, he argued, could not be wholly depraved. He frankly enjoyed her society, and it was not long before he let down the barriers of his reserve. Laura was quick to notice the change, and she would have belied her sex if it had not given her pleasure. Madison interested her; he was refreshingly different from all the men she had ever met. She wondered what his life was. At every opportunity she encouraged him to speak of himself. "Do you like this newspaper work?" she demanded, one day. He shook his head. "No; there is nothing in it," he answered. "When a big story breaks loose--a strike or a murder, or a bank robbery--one likes the excitement, but when things quiet down the dull routine palls on you. I won't stay in it." "Then what will you do?" "Hike it up to the Northwest--and dig for gold," he replied. Confidentially he went on: "I have the chance of a quarter interest in a mine up there. If I strike luck, I'll be richer than Croesus." "And then?" she smiled. "Then I'll come back and marry you!" he said laughingly. It was said lightly, but like many words uttered in jest, it sounded as if there might be some truth back of it. Both grew silent and the subject was quickly changed. While mortified at her discomfiture, Laura thought more of the big fellow for his attitude of utter indifference. She had been so pampered and courted all her life that it was a novelty to find that she made absolutely no impression on this one man. Her respect for him grew in consequence. Gradually, he, too, seemed to take more pleasure in her society. He called more frequently and became more friendly. He was still on his guard, as if he still distrusted her--or perhaps himself--but he did not avoid her any longer. The theatre naturally took up most of her time. When not acting, she was rehearsing new roles. It was interesting work, and she felt it was valuable experience. Madison declared she had improved wonderfully, and, in his enthusiasm, wrote eulogistic articles about her in the papers that were copied far and wide. Indeed, she could thank him for all the success she had had. He was at the theatre every night, watching her from the front, taking the liveliest interest in her success, and promoting it in every possible way. A critic who ventured to find fault he threatened to horsewhip; he put her portrait in the papers and printed interesting stories concerning her that had only his imagination for foundation. He transacted business for her with the local manager, and acted in her behalf in all the necessary negotiations with the Church Bazaar committees.