Again Fred took his mother and left Kelley to lead the way with Florence.
"Now, Mr. Kelley," began the girl, "I must tell you that I don't believe my brother has a thing to do with this mine except to divide the profits. Furthermore, you are trying to cover something up from me. You're doing it very well, but you've made one or two little 'catches' which have disturbed me. My brother has never mentioned you or Hank in his letters, and that's unnatural. He told us he was interested in a mine which was paying one hundred and fifty dollars a month. Now, why did he say that? I'll tell you why. It's because you pay him a salary and he's not really a partner." She paused to watch his face, then went on. "Now what does he do—what can he do to earn five dollars per day? His palms are as soft as silk—the only callous is on his right forefinger."
Kelley's face, schooled to impassivity, remained unchanged, but his eyes shifted. His astonishment was too great to be entirely concealed. "There's a whole lot of running—and figuring—and so on."
"Not with that little mine. Why, you can't employ more than five men!"
"Six," corrected Kelley, proudly.
"Well, six. You can't afford to pay my brother five dollars a day just to run errands and keep accounts for these six men. You're fooling him. You're paying him a salary out of sheer good nature because you like him. Deny it if you can!"
Kelley looked back to see that Fred was well out of earshot. "He is mighty good company," he admitted.
"There!" she exclaimed, triumphantly. "You can't fool me. I knew there was something queer about this whole arrangement." Then her voice changed. "It's very, very kind of you, Mr. Kelley, and I deeply appreciate it, and if you don't want me to do it—I will not let mother into our secret."
"What's the use? He's happier being called a partner."
"Very well—we'll let it go that way."