"You must have been yourself," the Californian vehemently declared, "when you took that legacy to pay to Mrs. Scofield, and then stole it because she died and no one knew about it. The mill belongs to Scofield, I say, and I can prove it in a little time." "You've got no evidence," asserted Hounshell, very pale and a trifle wolfish. "Evidence! I've got you, and you're chock full of it. I believe I could shake it right out of you if I tried." Piper glared at him, and then, without releasing his hold, made a dive with one hand at his captive's breast. "It's gone," said Hounshell, huskily. "I've burned it." "Burned what?" "The paper," Hounshell muttered; "your memo--" "Oh, you had it, then! You've convicted yourself by that, my fine scamp." "I give up," said the wretched criminal. "Let's go. Take me away--the mill! Bring Scofield. I give up." Seeing that this was best, Simeon acceded. "Come along, Scofield," he said. Jonah pressed up to Scofield and congratulated him as they went, but the older man scarcely responded. When they were again at the mill one striker renewed the idea of coercing the workers. But Jonah imposed his veto. "Not now," he said. And Scofield added: "Boys, if the mill belongs to me it's settled beforehand. You get your advance." This sent them off with a cheer and the prophecy that the rest of the bosses would have to follow suit. The four men, left alone, entered the office. "Is it true?" asked Scofield. Hounshell winced, but replied steadily: "It's all true." The weaver went to the window and put his head on his arm. It was he, the innocent man, who was overwhelmed by the disgrace of the one who had wronged him. "But how did you find it out?" Jonah asked of Piper. "Roundabout," was the answer. "First off, from a man I was hiring on my ranche. He came from here and spoke about Scofield; said he was a weaver. I'd heard something about that rich brother in 'Frisco that hadn't seen the rest of the Scofields for years, and left 'em his money; so I saw there might be something wrong. I looked it up, and came on here." Jonah took his hand. "But you must have known the Scofields, or had some interest in them," he said, after a moment. Simeon Piper looked down; then he looked away; finally he twirled his thumbs. "I could afford the time," he said. "Got money enough. Well, yes, I suppose you might call it interest. Fact is, I knew Scofield's wife's sister when she was young. I--didn't marry her. But, then, I never married any one, you see." And with this he faced his questioner, turning upon him a pair of eyes that beamed as if he had just set forth a remarkably cheerful circumstance. On further inquiry it was understood how Piper had taken the wrong train for Shagford, and, finding that it branched off, had started foolishly to walk along the track when overtaken on the bridge. He was now convinced that a hat was not a good place in which to deposit important documents.