at Los Nietos, and we made it up,
and when she went back to 'Frisco I thought I'd send her a ring; so I
bought this," fumbling in his pocket, and producing the most astounding
combination of red glass and pinchbeck; "and, by godfrey! she sent it
back to me. Now, I don't see anything wrong about that ring; do you?"

"It is certainly a little--well, peculiar, at least, for an engagement
ring; perhaps she would like something a trifle less showy. Ladies have
a great many whims about jewelry, you know."

"Exactly. That is just what I reflected. So I went and bought _this_"
(triumphantly displaying a narrow band); "now that's what I call
genteel; don't you? Well, if you'll believe it, she sent that back, too,
by--return mail. I wish I'd fetched you the letter she wrote; if it
wasn't the spiciest piece of literature I ever read by--anybody. 'She'd
have me understand she wasn't a barmaid nor a Quaker; and if I didn't
know what was due a lady in her position, I'd better find out before I
aspired to her hand,' _et cetery_. Oh, I tell you, she's grit; no end o'
mettle. So, you see, I've struck a boulder, and it gets me bad, because
I meant to see the parson through with his well here, and then go on to
'Frisco and get married. Now, if you'll help me through, and get me into
sand and gravel again, and your man decides to settle in these parts,
I'll guarantee you a number one well, good, even two-inch flow, and no
expense but pipe and boardin' hands. I'll do it, by--some means."

"Oh, no, Colonel," I said, struggling with a laugh; "I couldn't allow
that. It gives me great pleasure to advise you, only it's a very
delicate matter, you know--and--really" (I was casting about wildly for
an inspiration) "wouldn't it be better to go on to the city, as you
intended, and ask the lady to go with you and exercise her own taste in
selecting a ring?"

My companion took a step backward, folded his arms, and looked at me
admiringly.

"Well, if it don't beat all how a woman walks through a millstone! Now
that's what I call neat. Why, God bless you, madam, I've been boring at
that thing for a week steady, night and day, by--myself, and making no
headway. It makes me think of my mother. 'Robert,' she used to say (and
she had a very small, trembly voice),--'Robert, a woman's little finger
weighs more than a man's whole carcass;' and she was right. I'll
be--destroyed if she wasn't right!"

Esculapius laughed rather unnecessarily when I repeated