ns. When I give my protection
to anyone--I give it."

"Is that what you came back to say?" said Dick, still without stirring
hand or feature.

"By no means," said Saltash airily. "I didn't come to see you at all. I
came--to fetch Columbus!"

He turned with the words, hearing a low whine at the door behind him, and
opening it released the dog who ran out with eager searching. Saltash
stooped to fondle him.

Something that was like an electric thrill went through Dick. He took a
sudden step forward.

"Damn you!" he said, and gripped Saltash by the collar. "Tell me where
she is! Do you hear? Tell me!"

Saltash straightened himself with a lightning movement. They looked into
each other's eyes for several tense seconds. Then, though no word has
passed between them, Dick's hand fell.

"That's better," said Saltash. "You're getting quite civil. Look here, my
bully boy! I'll tell you something--and you'd better listen carefully,
for there's a hidden meaning to it. You're the biggest ass that ever
trod this earth. There!"

He put up a hand to his crumpled collar and straightened it, still with
his eyes upon Dick's face.

"Got that?" he asked abruptly. "Well, then, I'll tell you something else.
I've got a revolver in my pocket. I put it there in case the miners
needed any persuasion, but you shall have it to shoot me with--and no
doubt Mr. Fielding will kindly turn his back while you do it--if you
will answer--honestly--one question I should like to put to you first.
Is it a deal?"

Dick was breathing quickly. He stood close to Saltash, urged by a deadly
enmity and still on the verge of violence, but restrained by something
about the other man's attitude that he could not have defined.

"Well?" he said curtly at length. "What do you want to know?"

Saltash's lips twisted in a faintly sardonic smile. "Just one thing," he
said. "Don't speak in a hurry, for a good deal depends upon it! If some
kind friend--like myself for instance--had come to you, say, the night
before your wedding and told you that you were about to marry Lady Jo
Farringmore, would you have gone ahead with it--or not?"

He asked the question with a certain wariness, as a player who stakes
more on a move than he would care to lose. The glint of the gambler shone
in his curious eyes. His right hand was thrust into his pocket.

Fielding was watching that right hand narrowly, but Dick's look, grim and
unwavering, never left his opponent's face.

"W