"But you don't know--you don't know!" she cried, suddenly struggling to be free. "You don't know me," pressing her palms against his chest as he held her. "It's big, it's fine ... the biggest, the finest thing that has ever come into my life. "Tom! What if it should be a chance?" "But, Jane it can't--" With a faint little cry, almost as though she were hurt, she broke from him and fled toward the house through the moonlight. He stood alone, the feel of her lips still on his, heart leaping, mind swirling. And, looking down, he saw that in his hand he held the little gold locket. CHAPTER XV WAR! So, for Jane and Tom, at least, Hepburn came into the open. And for Hepburn, these two displayed their hands. Of greater consequence, Beck's reserve, his caution was swept away. He had taken his big chance! "You're all there is to me," he told Jane the following morning with a desperation in his eyes and a seriousness in his voice that made her search his face with alarm. "I fought against my love for you but it wasn't any use. You _made_ me love you. You'll make me keep lovin' you, won't you, Jane?" "I hope so! You don't know how much I hope so!" she assured him as her arms clasped his neck closely. "It frightens me, having this responsibility. It's the greatest I've ever had and I'm weak, Tom, a weak woman!" "No, strong!" he declared and stopped her further protest with kisses. Dad Hepburn, of course, could not stay on under the circumstances. "There's an advantage of having a reptile in sight if you've got to have one in the country," Beck told Jane as they discussed the matter, "but he won't stay. He's got an excuse to back out gracefully now and we haven't any excuse to keep him on." "And will you be my foreman?" she asked. "If you'll trust me that far," he replied with the laugh in his eyes again. Hepburn departed that day, telling Jane that he would like to stay but that he did not feel like risking his life for the sake of a job, to which she made no reply other than writing his check. This nettled him; he did not meet her gaze because, though they both had lied, her guilt was white while his was smirched with treachery. His farewell to Beck was not open but his successor read in it an ominous quality. "I wish you luck on your job, Beck," he said as he mounted, ready to ride away. "Lots of luck." "Mostly bad luck, Hepburn?" Tom taunted and the flush that whipped into the face of the older man was not that of humiliation. He reined his horse away with a growl and did not look back. If the little gold locket which Tom wore about his neck brought luck, it supplied a dire need. He had two determined personal enemies in the country, Webb and Hepburn, and as foreman of the HC he had many others, identities not fully established.