"I'm with you," he said crisply. "I'll see Ruf Ettinger myself to-morrow." Her eyes which had been frowning during Dart's latest attempt to be entertaining, grew suddenly brilliant, her cheeks flushed happily. "Dart," Wayne, continued, turning to the little man who had begun nodding his head approvingly when Wayne's shoulder had struck the door and who was still nodding, "you've done me a good turn to-night. I'm not ungrateful. But Miss--" "Hazleton," prompted Dart. "--will have to be going right away and I want to talk with her alone." "Sure," agreed Dart. "I'll get my book and go down to the bunk house. I'm reading a swell story about a guy named Jupiter and a skirt named--" For the first and only time on record Willie Dart stopped his flow of words because of the look he saw on a man's face. He went out snatching his book from the table as he passed. On his way to the bunk house he stopped long enough to shake his head and rub his chin. "I'm giving odds, ten to one," he reflected, "that the Weak Sister don't loaf around here all night counting snowflakes." "Something has happened, Mr. Shandon," Helga said sharply. Shandon laughed shortly and picked up his pipe. "A great deal has happened," he told her. "I've been a fool and an overgrown baby long enough. Let's get down to business. You can't stay here all night." She shrugged her shoulders. "For want of a chaperon, I suppose? I'm not worried about what people say or think, Mr. Shandon. And, besides, there's no place to go." "You can't stay, any way," he answered a little roughly. "You can get back to the Leland place. They'll keep you over night. Now, let's get this thing straight. You hope to get back your property from Hume?" Swiftly their roles had changed; he was dominant now, he asked his question in a tone that demanded an answer and she gave the answer. "Yes." "How?" "I can't tell you definitely. If you'll come to me in two weeks or a month I can tell you. For one thing, Hume is a man, I am a woman." "You are going to try to make him fall in love with you?" "Other men have done it," she said indifferently. "Other men are not Sledge Hume. But that is your end of it. I am going to tie up Ruf Ettinger and any other stragglers I can get my hands on. If you can get back the property we'll take you in. We'll form a company, we'll pool our interests. We'll force these other fellows to sell to us at our own figure, by the Lord! I've got the water!" "If I could force Sledge Hume to sell his inherited interest to me," she cried, "if I could make him sell to me as I sold to him, for a wretched twenty-five thousand dollars--" "What!" he broke in excitedly. "How much did Hume pay you?" "Twenty-five thousand. Why?" curiously. "_When_?" "I remember the date exactly." She told him. It was barely two weeks after the death of Arthur Shandon. Sudden suspicion in Wayne Shandon's brain had sprung full grown into positive certainty.