He paused and smiled wanly, then his eyes became fixed again, and he hurried on with his tale.
"I was standing out in front of my office one day when Tuck Edwards, the boy I had in charge of the mine, came riding up and says:
"'Rim, they've jumped you!'
"'Who jumped me?' I says.
"'Andrew McBain and L. W.!' he says and I thought at first he was crazy.
"'Jumped our mine?' I says. 'How can they jump it when it's part their own already?'
"'They've jumped it all,' he says. 'They had a mining expert out there for a week and he's made a report that the lode apexes on L. W.'s claim.'
"I couldn't believe it. L. W.? I'd made him. He used to be nothing but a cowman; and here he was in town, a banker. No, I couldn't believe it; and when I did it was too late. They'd taken possession of the property and had a court order restraining me from going onto the grounds. Not only did they claim the mine, but every dollar it had produced, the mill, the hotel, everything! And the judge backed them up in it—what kind of a law is that?"
He leaned forward and looked her in the eyes and Mary Fortune realized that she was being addressed not as a woman, impersonally, but as a human being.
"What kind of a law is that?" he demanded sternly and took the answer for granted.