relaxed her
expression and nodded.

"Well," continued Hays, resuming his place by the fire, "you see this
yer man I was goin' to see lives about four miles beyond the summit on
a ranch that furnishes most of the hay for the stock that side of the
Divide. He's bin holdin' off his next year's contracts with me, hopin'
to make better terms from the prospects of a late spring and higher
prices. He held his head mighty high and talked big of waitin' his own
time. I happened to know he couldn't do it."

He put his hands on his knees and stared at the fire, and then went
on:--

"Ye see this man had had crosses and family trials. He had a wife that
left him to jine a lot of bally dancers and painted women in the 'Frisco
playhouses when he was livin' in the southern country. You'll say that
was like MY own case,--and mebbe that was why it came to him to tell
me about it,--but the difference betwixt HIM and ME was that instead
of restin' unto the Lord and findin' Him, and pluckin' out the eye
that offended him 'cordin' to Scripter, as I did, HE followed after HER
tryin' to get her back, until, findin' that wasn't no use, he took a
big disgust and came up here to hide hisself, where there wasn't no
playhouse nor play-actors, and no wimmen but Injin squaws. He pre-empted
the land, and nat'rally, there bein' no one ez cared to live there but
himself, he had it all his own way, made it pay, and, as I was sayin'
before, held his head high for prices. Well--you ain't gettin' tired,
ma'am?"

"No," said the lady, resting her cheek on her hand and gazing on the
fire, "it's all very interesting; and so odd that you two men, with
nearly the same experiences, should be neighbors."

"Say buyer and seller, ma'am, not neighbors--at least Scriptoorily--nor
friends. Well,--now this is where the Speshal Providence comes in,--only
this afternoon Jim Briggs, hearin' me speak of Horseley's offishness"--

"WHOSE offishness?" asked the lady.

"Horseley's offishness,--Horseley's the name of the man I'm talkin'
about. Well, hearin' that, he says: 'You hold on, Hays, and he'll
climb down. That wife of his has left the stage--got sick of it--and is
driftin' round in 'Frisco with some fellow. When Horseley gets to hear
that, you can't keep him here,--he'll settle up, sell out, and realize
on everything he's got to go after her agin,--you bet.' That's what
Briggs said. Well, that's what sent me up to Horseley's to-night--to get
there, drop the news,