"Mr. Kilmeny doesn't quite believe all he says," suggested Moya quietly. "Don't I?" Behind Jack's quizzical smile there was a hint of earnestness. "I believe that Dobyans Verinder is a parasite in Goldbanks. He gobbles up the product of others' toil." Joyce flashed at him a swift retort. "Then if you believe that, you ought to be a highgrader yourself." "Joyce," reproved Moya, aghast. "I mean, of course, in principle," her friend amended, blushing slightly at her own audacity. Her impudence amused the miner. "Perhaps I am--in principle." "But only in principle," she murmured, tilting a radiant challenge at him. "Exactly--in principle," he agreed. There was humor in his saturnine face. Joyce ventured one daring step further. "But of course in practice----" "You should have been a lawyer, Miss Seldon," he countered. "If you were, my reply would be that by advice of counsel I must decline to answer." "Oh, by advice of counsel! Dear me, that sounds dreadfully legal, doesn't it, Moya? Isn't that what criminals say when----?" "----When they don't want to give themselves away. I believe it is," he tossed back with the same lightness. "Before I make confession I shall want to know whether you are on my side--or Verinder's." Under the steady look of his bold, possessive eyes the long silken lashes fell to the soft cheeks. Joyce understood the unvoiced demand that lay behind the obvious one. He had thrown down the gage of battle. Was she for Verinder or for him? If he could have offered her one-half the advantages of his rival, her answer would not have been in doubt. But she knew she dared not marry a poor man, no matter how wildly his presence could set her pulses flying or how great her longing for him. Not the least intention of any romantic absurdity was in her mind. When the time came for choice she would go to Verinder and his millions. But she did not intend to let Jack Kilmeny go yet. She lifted to him a face flushed and excited, answering apparently his words and not his thoughts. "I haven't decided yet. How can I tell till I hear what you have to say for yourself?" "You couldn't find a more charming sister confessor for your sins," the captain told his cousin. "I'll do my best," Joyce promised. Then, with a flash of friendly malice: "But I haven't had the experience of Moya. She is just perfect in the rôle. I know, because she hears all mine." Moya flushed resentfully. She did not intend to set up for a prude, but she certainly did not mean to treat highgrading as if it were a joke. If Jack Kilmeny was innocent, why did he not indignantly deny the charge? "Afraid I'll have to be excused," she said, a little stiffly. "Miss Dwight doesn't approve of me," explained the miner. "If I confessed to her she would probably turn me over to the sheriff." The girl's quick eyes flashed into his. "I don't approve of taking ore that doesn't belong to one--if that's what you mean, Mr. Kilmeny."