trying to get that mine for months. But what is it,
Wiley? Have you located the lost vein? Oh, I knew it; all the time!"

"Yes, you did," jeered Wiley, "you didn't know anything, except how to
grab hold of the stock. What good was it to you after you'd got the old
mine--you didn't know what to do with it! All you knew was how to rob
the widow and the orphan and deprive better men of their good name. You
wait till I tell my Old Man about this--and how you were selling him
out, all the time. If it wasn't for you he'd never been called Honest
John by a bunch of these tin-horns and crooks. But I'll show you who's
honest--I'm going to skin you alive for what you did to my father. You
wait till I make my clean-up!"

"But what is it, Wiley?" cried Blount, despairingly. "Have you really
discovered the lost vein?"

"No," grinned Wiley, "but I've consulted an expert and he tells me the
mine is worth millions!"

"What--millions?" burst out Blount, struggling up to his feet. "Now
here, Wiley Holman; I want that option back! You secured it by fraud and
misrepresentation and by concealment of the actual facts. I'll have the
law on you--I'll break the contract--you came here with intent to
defraud!"

"Don't you think it!" returned Wiley, thrusting out his lip. "You
thought you were trimming me, like taking candy from a baby. Why didn't
_you_ get an expert? I offered to hire out to you, myself!"

"Oh--hell!" choked Blount. "Well, tell me the worst--where was it he
told you to dig?"

"Why right down the shaft," answered Wiley blandly. "He's a new kind of
mining expert and he locates the gold by electricity."

"By electricity!" exclaimed Blount, and as he perceived Wiley's smile he
straightened up in a rage. "I don't believe a word of it. Who is this
man, anyway? I never heard of such a thing before!"

"Oh, yes!" said Wiley, as he stepped out the door, "you know the
professor well. They call him Death Valley Charley."

CHAPTER XIII

A SACK OF CATS

The weary work of packing had gone on endlessly in the bare rooms of the
old Huff house and now Virginia, with two kittens in her arms and the
mother cat following behind, was passing it all in review. A solid row
of packing boxes, arrayed on the front gallery, awaited the motor truck;
and here and there in corners lay piles of discarded treasures that were
destined to go to Charley for loot. He was hanging about, with his
pistol well in front, on the watch for Stiff Ne