of them preferred it to the monotony of working a mine.
A few who were married and had hungry families stayed longer than the rest
but it was always a problem.

Just now the mine was running three days a week and no one knew when
orders would come to shut down entirely. There were the usual rumors
afloat in regard to the coming election in July and a good many people who
had seen other elections in Mexico expected trouble. The Athens people
were looking to Street's return for news from headquarters, but already
several days had gone by since the wedding and they had heard nothing.

The men looked up and nodded as Scott entered and Mrs. Van Zandt, peering
in from the kitchen through a square hole which served as a means of
communication, brought him his coffee. Mrs. Van Zandt had a weak spot in
her heart for Marc Scott--most women and children had. One did not at
first see why. He was not good looking, except that he was well made and
well kept; not particularly pleasing in his manner, being given to an
abruptness of speech which most people found disconcerting; and he liked
his own way more than is conducive to social harmony.

He was, however, straight as a die; was afraid of few things and no
persons; and if he liked you, he had an especial manner for you which took
the edge off his gruffness so that you wondered why you had ever thought
him disagreeable. His hair and skin were as brown as each other, which was
saying a good deal; his eyes were gray; his teeth white and strong; and he
had the healthy look of a man who lives in the open, bathes a good deal
and does not overeat.

"Late as usual," remarked Mrs. Van Zandt, pessimistically, as she set the
coffee down beside him. "The less a man has to do in this world, the
harder it seems to be for him to get to his meals on time."

"Ain't it the truth?" remarked Adams, with feeling. He was a short, chubby
youngster, with a twinkling blue eye. "If it was me, I could whistle for
my supper, but seeing it's him, he gets fed up, the beggar!"

"Too bad about you!" sniffed Mrs. Van Zandt. "I thought you'd cut out that
second cup of coffee?"

"I'm aiming to cut it out during the heated term," was the cheerful reply.
"There's something about your coffee, Mrs. Van, that's like some
folks--refuses to be cut."

"Humph!" Mrs. Van was not inaccessible to flattery. "Dolores," this to a
black-haired girl whose face appeared at the hole. "You can cut the pies
like I told you--in f