or fully an hour, while
above them Mike leaned with back comfortably propped against the
windlass in perfect contentment, and the hobbled pony peacefully
cropped the short grass along the ledge. Then the brooding silence was
abruptly broken by a voice rising from out the depths of the shaft,
while a vigorous shaking of the dangling rope caused the windlass to
vibrate sharply. Old Mike, with great deliberation stowing away his
pipe, unslipped the raw-hide, and, calmly indifferent to all else
except his necessary labor, slowly hauled the girl to the surface. She
was radiant, her eyes glowing from the excitement of unusual adventure,
and scrambled forth from the dangling bucket without awaiting
assistance. Before Brown attained to the surface, the lady had safely
captured the straying pony and swung herself lightly into the saddle.
Squaring his broad shoulders with surprise as he came out, his face
flushed, his lips set firm, the young giant laid restraining fingers on
her gloved hand.

"Y-y-you really m-mean it?" he asked, eagerly, as though fearing the
return to daylight might already have altered her decision. "C-can I
c-call on you wh-wh-where you s-s-said?"

She smiled sweetly down at him, her eyes picturing undisguised
admiration of his generous proportions, and frank, boyish face.

"Si, si, senor. _Sapristi_, why not? 'T is I, rather, who 'fraid you
forget to come."

"Y-you n-need n't be," he stammered, coloring. "S-senorita, I sh-shall
never f-f-forget this day."

"_Quien sabe_?--poof! no more vill I; but now, _adios_, senor."

She touched her pony's side sharply with the whip, and, standing
motionless, Stutter watched them disappear over the abrupt ledge. Once
she glanced shyly back, with a little seductive wave of the gauntleted
hand, and then suddenly dropped completely out of view down the steep
descent of the trail. Old Mike struck another match, and held the tiny
flame to his pipe-bowl.

"An' it's hell ye played the day," he remarked reflectively, his eyes
glowing gloomily.

The younger man wheeled suddenly about and faced him.

"Wh-what do ye m-m-mean?"

"Jist the same whut I said, Stutter. Ye 're a broight one, ye are.
That's the Mexican dancer down at the Gayety at San Juan, no less; and
it's dollars to doughnuts, me bye, that that dom Farnham sint her out
here to take a peek at us. It wud be loike the slippery cuss, an' I
hear the two of thim are moighty chummy."

And Stutter Br