"Now, Mr. Kelley," began the girl, "I must tell you that I don't believe my brother has a thing to do with this mine except to divide the profits. Furthermore, you are trying to cover something up from me. You're doing it very well, but you've made one or two little 'catches' which have disturbed me. My brother has never mentioned you or Hank in his letters, and that's unnatural. He told us he was interested in a mine which was paying one hundred and fifty dollars a month. Now, why did he say that? I'll tell you why. It's because you pay him a salary and he's not really a partner." She paused to watch his face, then went on. "Now what does he do--what can he do to earn five dollars per day? His palms are as soft as silk--the only callous is on his right forefinger." Kelley's face, schooled to impassivity, remained unchanged, but his eyes shifted. His astonishment was too great to be entirely concealed. "There's a whole lot of running--and figuring--and so on." "Not with that little mine. Why, you can't employ more than five men!" "Six," corrected Kelley, proudly. "Well, six. You can't afford to pay my brother five dollars a day just to run errands and keep accounts for these six men. You're fooling him. You're paying him a salary out of sheer good nature because you like him. Deny it if you can!" Kelley looked back to see that Fred was well out of earshot. "He _is_ mighty good company," he admitted. "There!" she exclaimed, triumphantly. "You can't fool me. I knew there was something queer about this whole arrangement." Then her voice changed. "It's very, very kind of you, Mr. Kelley, and I deeply appreciate it, and if you don't want me to do it--I will not let mother into our secret." "What's the use? He's happier being called a partner." "Very well--we'll let it go that way." Thereafter her manner changed. She was more thoughtful; she looked at him with softer eyes. It seemed to her very wonderful, this friendship between a rough, big man and her brother, who had always been something of a scapegrace at home. Her own regard for Kelley deepened. "Men aren't such brutes, after all." Her smile was less mocking, her jests less pointed, as she sat at Mrs. Finnegan's long table and ate boiled beef and cabbage and drank the simmered hay which they called tea. She was opposite Kelley this time, and could study him to better advantage. Kelley, on his part, was still very uneasy. The girl's uncanny penetration had pressed so clearly to the heart of his secret that he feared the hours which remained. "I'm at the end of my rope," he inwardly admitted. "She'll catch me sure unless I can get away from her." Nevertheless, he wondered a little and was a trifle chagrined when the girl suddenly turned from him to her brother. He was a little uneasy thereat, for he was certain she would draw from the youngster some admissions that would lead to a full confession.