“Oh, he’d bought up all the stock; and Mother, she took yours and─”
“What?” yelled the Colonel, and then he closed down his jaw and his blue eyes sparkled ominously. “Proceed,” he said. “The information, first–but, by the gods, he shall answer for this!”
“But all the time,” went on Virginia hastily, “the mine belonged to Wiley. It had been sold for taxes–and he bought it!”
“Ah!” observed the Colonel, and glanced at him shrewdly for he saw now where the tale was going.
“Well,” continued Virginia, “when Blount saw Wiley wanted it he came up and took it himself. And he hired Stiff Neck George to herd the mine and keep Wiley and everybody away. But when he was working it, why Wiley came back and 293claimed it under the tax sale; and he went right up to the mine and took away George’s gun–and kicked him down the dump!”
“He did!” exclaimed the Colonel, but Wiley did not look up, for his mind was on the end of the tale.
“And then–oh, it’s all mixed up, but Blount couldn’t find any gold and so he leased the mine to Wiley. And the minute he found that the white quartz was tungsten, and worth three dollars a pound, he was mad as anything and did everything he could to keep him from meeting the payment. But Wiley went ahead and shipped a lot of ore and made a lot of money in spite of him. He cleaned out the mine and fixed up the mill and oh, Father, you wouldn’t know the place!”
“Probably not!” returned the Colonel, “but proceed with your story. Who holds the Paymaster, now?”
“Why Blount, of course, and he’s moved back to town and is simply shoveling out the ore!”
“The scoundrel!” burst out the Colonel. “Wiley, we will return to Keno immediately and bring this blackguard to book! I have a stake in this matter, myself!”