rry gossip between rivals," she said. "They might fly at
each other's throats. You don't like Mr. Stoddard. Very well, he
doesn't like you. He thinks you're flighty and extravagant. But is
that any reason why we shouldn't be friends--or why my stock isn't
perfectly good?"

"Don't you think it!" answered Rimrock. "Any time you want to sell
it----"

"A-ah! At it again!" she chided laughingly. "How like fighting
animals men are. If I'd toss that stock, like a bit of raw meat, in
the midst of you copper-mad men! But I won't, never fear. In the
fight that would follow I might lose some highly valued friend."

From the droop of her lashes Rimrock was left to guess who that friend
might be and, not being quick at woman logic, he smiled and thought of
Stoddard. They sat late at their table and, to keep him at ease, Mrs.
Hardesty joined him in a cigarette. It was a habit she had learned
when Mr. Hardesty was living; although now, of course, every one
smoked. Then, back at last in the shadowy alcove--which was suddenly
vacated by the Jepsons--they settled down on the Turkish divan and
invited their souls with smoke. It rose up lazily as the talk drifted
on and then Rimrock jumped abruptly to his problem.

"Mrs. Hardesty," he said, "I'm in a terrible fix and I want you to help
me out. I never saw the man yet that I couldn't get away with--give me
time, and room according to my strength--but I've had a girl working
for me, she's the secretary of our company, and she fools me every
time."

Mrs. Hardesty laughed--it was soft, woman's laughter as if she enjoyed
this joke on mere man--and even when Rimrock explained the dangerous
side of his predicament she refused to take it seriously.

"Ah, you're all alike," she said sighing comfortably, "I've never known
it to fail. It's always the woman who trusts through everything, and
the man who disbelieves. I saw her, just a moment, as she passed down
the hall and I don't think you have anything to fear. She's a quiet
little thing----"

"Don't you think it!" burst out Rimrock. "You don't know her the way I
do. She's an Injun, once she makes up her mind."

"Well, even so," went on Mrs. Hardesty placidly, "what reason have you
to think she means trouble? Did you have any words with her before she
went away? What reason did she give when she left?"

"Well," began Rimrock, "the reason she gave was some operation to be
performed on her ears. But I know just as su