Hope.'"

Stoner nodded. "He had a good piece of ground, right adjoining the
Moon Petroleum tract--three wells down to the sand. I wondered how
he ever got hold of it."

"He didn't. That's the big laugh. He didn't own that land at all.
He just had himself a map drawn, with the numbers changed. His
ground was a mile away. He sold his stock in two days, thirty-five
thousand shares, then he blew. Some Coal-oil John, who had plunged
for about three shares, got to studying his own map, found there
was something wrong and let up a squawk. But Silver Tip had faded
like the mists of early morn--thirty-five stronger than he was.
Snappy work, eh?"

McWade frowned his disapproval. "Something ought to be done to
stop those crooks or they'll kill us legitimate promoters. You
can't sting a crowd too often in the same spot."

There came a knock at the door, and in answer to an invitation to
enter it opened. The next instant both McWade and Stoner sat erect
in their chairs, with eyes alert and questioning, for at sight of
the stranger Mallow had leaped to his feet with a smothered
exclamation, and now stood with his back to the desk and with his
head outthrust in a peculiar attitude of strained intensity.



CHAPTER X