! I
didn't realize the time. Would you mind calling a waiter?"

Meanwhile Joyce began on her grape fruit. Almost simultaneously a sound
of voices reached her. Men were coming into the parlor that adjoined the
breakfast room.

The high-pitched voice of her affianced lover was the first she
recognized. "----to-night! Sure he said to-night?"

Joyce judged that the rough tones of the answer came from a workingman.
"That's right. To-night, Bell said. He was to bring his wagon round to
Kilmeny's at eleven and they were going to haul the ore to Utah
Junction."

A third speaker, evidently Bleyer, the superintendent, cut in quietly.
"Bell said it was to be a big shipment, didn't he?"

"Yep. Worth sixty or seventy thousand, he figured."

"Was Bell drunk?"

"I wouldn't say drunk. He had been drinking a good deal. Talkative like.
He let it out as a secret, y'understand."

"Anyone there beside you?"

"A miner by the name of Peale."

"Know the man?"

It was Verinder that asked the question and Bleyer that answered.

"Yes. A bad lot. One of those that insulted the young ladies."

"Anyhow, he won't warn Kilmeny."

"Not after the mauling that young man gave him. He's still carrying the
scars," Bleyer replied with a low laugh. He added briskly, after a
moment, "What do you expect to get out of this, Rollins?"

The workman seemed to answer with some embarrassment. "Thought you might
give me that lease in the Mollie Gibson I spoke to you about, Mr.
Bleyer."

"It's yours--if this comes out as you say, my man. I'd give more than
that to call the turn on Mr. Highgrader Kilmeny," Verinder promised.

"And, o' course, you won't give it away that I told."

"Certainly not."

The arrival of a waiter eliminated Joyce as a listener, for the first
thing the man did was to close the door between the parlor and the
dining-room.

But she had heard enough to know that Jack Kilmeny was in danger of
falling into a trap that was being set for him. Verinder had him at
last, just as he had promised that he would get him. No doubt they would
have witnesses and would send him to prison as they had threatened.

No more than forty-eight hours earlier Joyce would have been on
Kilmeny's side instantly. Now her feelings were mixed. It was still
impossible for her to think of him without a flare of passion. She was
jealous and resentful because she had lost him, but deeper than these
lay the anger born of his scornful surrender of her. It w