When he had fully explained his
ideas on the subject he made me swear that I would carry them out."
She paused and looked at Calumet and he saw that the expression of
advantage that had been in her eyes all along was no longer a subtle
expression, but plain and unmistakable.
Calumet watched her intently, silently, his face a battleground for the
emotions that rioted within him. The girl watched him with covert
vigilance and he felt that she was enjoying him. And when finally she
saw the rage die out of his eyes, saw the color come slowly back into
his cheeks and his face become a hard, inscrutable mask, she knew that
the coming struggle between them was to be a bitter one.
"So," he said, after a while; "I don't get the coin until I become a
Sunday school scholar?"
"It is specified that you give a practical demonstration of reform in
character. You must show that you forgive your father."
"You're goin' to be my guardian?"
"Your judge," corrected the girl.
"He's got all this in the will?"
"Yes, the last one he made."
"You don't reckon I could break that will?" he sneered.
"Try it," she mocked. "It has been probated in Las Vegas. The judge
happens to be a friend of your father's and, I understand, sympathized
with him."
"Clever, eh?" said Calumet, grinning crookedly.
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