ettlement who hasn't got a
quart glass fruit-jar full of gold nuggets and dust under his bed, and
who isn't just waiting and pining to show it to some stranger like
yourself. You're Glad Tidings in this town. You couldn't walk
to-morrow if you took all the free samples of solid gold the boys
would offer you. You'd get dizzy looking down prospect holes. You
wouldn't know where you were; and when you came to; you'd own about
fifty gold-mines, with all the dips, spurs, and angles, and all the
variations of the magnetic needle to wit and aforesaid. Now, I
oughtn't to take care of you. I don't owe you a thing on earth. But
because you brought--well, because--anyhow, I'm _going_ to take care
of you, while you're here, and see that you get a square deal."

"By the way, my daughter--" said Mr. Ellsworth, sitting up uneasily.

"Never mind," said Dan Anderson, gently. "Miss Constance is all
right. They'll take care of her just as well as I'll take care of
you. Everybody will be more sociable by about noon to-morrow. The
whole town's scared yet."

"I don't see anything very terrible about me," said Mr. Ellsworth.

"Oh, it isn't _you_," said Dan Anderson, calmly. "Nobody's afraid of
_you_. It's your daughter--it's the woman. Don't you reckon Adam
was about the scaredest thing in the wide, wide world about the time
old Ma Eve set up her bakeshop under the spreading fig tree? I don't
know that I make myself right plain--you see, it's sort of funny here.
We aren't used to women any more."

"Oh, well, now, my dear sir, you see, my daughter--"

"I know all about her," said Dan Anderson, sharply.

"I don't doubt she thought I was a mere trifler. She couldn't
understand that it isn't right for a man to stick to anything until
he's found the right thing to stick to. I don't blame her the least
bit in the world. She could only see what I _wasn't_ doing. I knew
what I was _going_ to do, and I know it now." There was a gravity
and certainty about Dan Anderson now that went through the
self-consciousness of the man before him. Ellsworth looked at him
intently. "We'll be here for a day or so," said he, "and meantime, it
will seem a little strange for my daughter, I suppose--"

"You don't need to tell me about anything," said Dan Anderson. "Of
course, her coming is a little inopportune. You see, Mr. Ellsworth,
the morning stars are inopportune, and the sunrise every day, and the
dew of heaven."

Ellsworth looke