reholder did not disdain even to assist in the work, and it
was a proud and happy youth, clay-smirched and wearing 'bo-yangs' below
his knees like a full-blown working miner, who marched through the bush
with the other owners of the Native Youth at crib-time. Being their own
bosses the men of the new mine went home to dinner, and dined at their
leisure like the aristocrats they expected to be.

Prouder still was Dick when he discovered brown haired, dark-eyed little
Kitty Grey loitering amongst the trees, regarding him with evident
admiration and awe. He felt at that moment that he needed only a black
pipe to make his triumph complete, and had a momentary resentment against
the absurd prejudice that denied a boy of his years the right to smoke in
public. Kitty had scarcely dared to lift her eyes to her hero for some
time past: the wonderful stories told of him seemed to exalt him to such
an altitude that she could hope for nothing better than to worship meekly
at a great distance. She was braver now, she actually approached him and
spoke to him, yet timidly enough to have softened a heart of adamant; but
Dick, stung by a laughing comment from McKnight, would have passed her by
with an exaggerated indifference intended to convey an idea of his
sublime superiority to little girls, no matter how large and dark and
appealing their eyes might be. Then she actually seized his hand.

'Don't go, Dickie,' she said, 'I want to speak to you. Miss Christina
sent me.'

Kitty was a member of Christina Shine's class at the chapel, and was one
of half a dozen to whom Miss Chris represented all that was beautiful and
most to be desired in an angel. The mention of Christina's name served to
divest Dick of all pretentiousness.

'What is it, Kitty?' he asked eagerly.

'She wants you. She says you're her friend, an' you'll go to her,' Kitty
spoke in a whisper, although the men were now well beyond earshot.

'Yes,' said Dick; 'I'll go now.'

'No, not now,' said Kitty clinging to his sleeve. 'She says have your
dinner an' then go. An' oh, Dickie, she's been crying, an' she's all
white, an'--an'--' At this the little messenger began to cry too.

'Is she?' said Dick, sadly. 'When my mine turns out rich I'm goin' to
give her a fortune.'

'Oh, are you, Dickie?' said Kitty, beaming through her tears.

'Yes,' answered he gravely; 'and then she'll marry Harry Hardy an' be
happy ever after.'

'My, that will be nice,' murmured Kitty, much