looked at her curiously.

"But when they're gone--isn't that rather a careless place to leave it?"

Quietly the Girl came from behind the bar and went over and stood beside
the keg; when she spoke her eyes flashed dangerously.

"They'd have to kill me before they got it," she said, with cool
deliberation.

"Oh, I see--it's your money."

"No, it's the boys'."

A look of relief crossed Johnson's features.

"Oh, that's different," he contended; and then brightening up somewhat,
he went on: "Now, I wouldn't risk my life for that."

"Oh, yes, you would, yes, you would," declared the Girl with feeling. A
moment later she was down on her knees putting bag after bag of the
precious gold-dust and coins into the keg. When they were all in she
closed the lid, and putting her foot down hard to make it secure, she
repeated: "Oh, yes, you would, if you seen how hard they got it. When I
think of it, I nearly cry."

Johnson had listened absorbedly, and was strangely affected by her
words. In her rapidly-filling eyes, in the wave of colour that surged in
her cheeks, in the voice that shook despite her efforts to control it,
he read how intense was her interest in the welfare of the miners. How
the men must adore her!

Unconsciously the Girl arose, and said:

"There's somethin' awful pretty in the way the boys hold out before they
strike it, somethin' awful pretty in the face o' rocks, an' clay an'
alkali. Oh, Lord, what a life it is anyway! They eat dirt, they sleep in
dirt, they breathe dirt 'til their backs are bent, their hands twisted
an' warped. They're all wind-swept an' blear-eyed I tell you, an' some
o' them jest lie down in their sweat beside the sluices, an' they don't
never rise up again. I've seen 'em there!" She paused reminiscently;
then, pointing to the keg, she went on haltingly: "I got some money
there of Ol' Brownie's. He was lyin' out in the sun on a pile o' clay
two weeks ago, an' I guess the only clean thing about him was his soul,
an' he was quittin', quittin', quittin', right there on the clay, an'
quittin' hard. Oh, so hard!" Once more she stopped and covered her face
with her hands as if to shut out the horror of it all. Presently she had
herself under control and resumed: "Yes, he died--died jest like a dog.
You wanted to shoot 'im to help 'im along quicker. Before he went he sez
to me: 'Girl, give it to my ol' woman.' That was all he said, an' he
went. She'll git it, all right."

With every wor