"I wouldn't be here. We're going back to England next week."
"But if you were. Would your friendship stand the test?"
Once again she answered, "I don't know," her heart beating wildly as her glance fell away from his.
"I shan't have to try you out this time, neighbor. I'm not going to the pen if I can help it."
"Are you sure of that? The mine owners are quite determined to punish some of the highgraders. Suppose I hadn't come to you to-day. What then?"
He smiled down upon her with the easy recklessness that distinguished him. "I don't think it would have run quite to a prison sentence. The burden of proof lies on the accuser. Because I am in possession of rich ore, it does not follow that I did not come by it legitimately. Ore can't be sworn to like bric-a-brac. I may have shipped this in from South Africa, so far as the law knows. Bleyer knows that. I figure he would have played his hand in the Goldbanks way."
"And how would that be?"
"He would forget the law too, just as we've done on our side. A posse of men would have fallen on me maybe after I had got out of town, and they would have taken that ore from me. They would have been masked so that I could not swear to them."
"Why, that is highway robbery."
He laughed. "We don't use such big words out here, ma'am. Just a hold-up--a perfectly legitimate one, from Bleyer's viewpoint--and it would have left me broke."
"Broke!"
He nodded. "Dead broke. I've got twenty thousand dollars invested in that ore--every cent I've got in the world."
"You paid that to the miners for it?"
"We pay fifty per cent. of what is coming to the men as soon as a rough assay is made, the other fifty after we get the smelter returns. That wagon load of ore is worth--unless I miss my guess badly--about sixty thousand dollars."
"Dear me. So much as that?" She could not quite keep a note of sarcasm out of her voice. "And have you it in a safety deposit vault?"
His cool gaze took her in quietly. He was willing to bet his last dollar on her loyalty, and it was like him to back his judgment in one wild throw. "Not exactly. It is lying in a pile of hay in my barn, all sacked up ready for shipment."
"Waiting there for anybody that wants it," she suggested.
"For anybody that wants it worse than I do," he corrected, the fighting gleam in his eyes.