She rose up in alarm, but something in his smile made her sit down and eye him accusingly. "I know what you're doing," she said at last; "you're trying to break his bank. You always said you would." "Oh, that stuff!" he jeered, "that was nothing but hot air. I'm a blow-hard--everybody knows that." She looked at him again, and her face became very grave, for she knew what was gnawing at his heart. And she was far from being convinced. "You didn't thank me," she said, "for returning your grubstake. Does that mean you really don't care? Or are you just mad because I took away your mine? Of course I know you are." "Sure, I'm mad," he admitted. "Wouldn't you be mad? Well, why should I thank you for this? You take away my mine, that was worth millions of dollars, and gimme back a piece of paper." He slapped the contract against his leg and thrust it roughly into his shirt, at which Wilhelmina burst into tears. "I--I'm sorry I stole it," she confessed between sobs, "and now Father and everybody is against me. But I did it for you--so you wouldn't get killed--and so Father could have his road. And now he won't take it, because the money isn't ours. He says I'm to return it to you." "Well, you tell your old man," burst out Wunpost brutally, "that he's crazy and I won't touch a cent. I guess I know how to get my rights without any help from him." "Why, what do you mean?" she queried tremulously, but he shut his mouth down grimly. "Never mind," he said, "you just hold your breath, and listen for something to drop. I ain't through, by no manner of means." "Oh, you're going to fight Eells!" she cried out reproachfully. "I just know something dreadful will happen." "You bet your life it will--but not to me. I'm after that old boy's hide." "And won't you take the money?" she asked regretfully, and when he shook his head she wept. It was not easy weeping, for Wilhelmina was not the kind that practises before a mirror, and the agony of it touched his heart. "Aw, say, kid," he protested, "don't take on like that--the world hasn't come to an end. You ain't cut out for this rough stuff, even if you did steal me blind, but I'm not so sore as all that. You tell your old man that I'll accept ten thousand dollars if he'll let me rebuild that road--because ever since it washed out I've felt conscience-stricken as hell over starting that cloudburst down his canyon." He rose up gaily, but she refused to be comforted until he laid his big hand on her head, and then she sprang up and threw both arms around his neck and made him give her a kiss. But she did not ask him to forgive her. CHAPTER XXVIII WUNPOST HAS A BAD DREAM