, and
ghostly, on the hill beyond where they were seated. His pity and
hospitality led him farther.

"Had your supper?" he asked.

Bells Park shook his head in negation.

"Then you can share with us," Dick said, getting to his feet and
entering the cabin from which in a few moments came a rattle of fire
being replenished, a coffee-pot being refilled, and the crisp, frying
note of sizzling bacon and eggs.

"Who might that young feller be?" asked the engineer, glowering with
sudden curiosity, after his long silence, into the face of the
grizzled old prospector, who, in the interim, had sat quietly.

"Him? That's Dick Townsend, half-owner in the mine," Bill replied.

"Half owner? Cookin' for me? Why don't you do it? What right have you
got sittin' here on your long haunches and lettin' a boss do the work?
Hey? Who are you?"

"I'm his superintendent," grinned Bill, appreciating the joke of being
superintendent of a mine where no one worked.

"Oh!" said the engineer. And then, after a pause, as if readjusting
all these conditions to meet his approval: "Say, he's all right, ain't
he!"

"You bet your life!" came the emphatic response.

The applicant said no more until after he had gone into the cabin and
eaten his fill, after which he insisted on clearing away the dishes,
and then rejoined them in a less-tired mood. He squatted down on the
edge of the porch, where they sat staring at the shadows of the
glorious night, and appeared to be thoughtful for a time, while they
were silently amused.

"You're thinkin' it's no good, are you?" he suddenly asked,
brandishing his pipe at Dick. "Well, I said you were a fool. Take it
kindly, young feller. I'm an old man, but I know. You've been good to
me. I didn't come here to butt my nose in, but I know her better than
you do. Say!" He pivoted on his hips, and tapped an emphatic
forefinger on the warped planks beneath in punctuation. "There never
was a set of owners shell-gamed like them that had the Croix d'Or!
There never was a good property so badly handled. Two superintendents
are retired and livin' on the money they stole from her. One millman's
bought himself a hotel in Seattle with what he got away with. There
was enough ore packed off in dinner-pails from the Bonanza Chute to
heel half the men who tapped it. They were always lookin' for more of
'em. They passed through a lead of ore that would have paid expenses,
on the six-hundred-foot level, and lagged it rather th