of the house--I'll show you a way--or you can use them to tell me just
why you've come."

In spite of himself Ronicky smiled. "Lady," he said, "if a rat was in
a trap d'you think he'd stop very long between a chance of getting
clear and a chance to tell how he come to get into the place?"

"I have a perfectly good reason for asking," she answered. "Even if
you now get out of the house safely you'll try to come back later on."

"Lady," said Ronicky, "do I look as plumb foolish as that?"

"You're from the West," she said in answer to his slang.

"Yes."

She considered the straight-looking honesty of his eyes. "Out West,"
she said, "I know you men are different. Not one of the men I know
here would take another chance as risky as this, once they were out of
it. But out there in the mountains you follow long trails, trails that
haven't anything but a hope to lead you along them? Isn't that so?"

"Maybe," admitted Ronicky. "It's the fever out of the gold days, lady.
You start out chipping rocks to find the right color; maybe you never
find the right color; maybe you never find a streak of pay stuff, but
you keep on trying. You're always just sort of around the corner from
making a big strike."

She nodded, smiling again, and the smiles changed her pleasantly, it
seemed to Ronicky Doone. At first she had impressed him almost as a