in. "Well, I
hope you make a million. And if you do you'll never hear no kick from
me--you've bought it and paid my price."

"Fair enough!" exclaimed Denver and shook hands on the trade, after
which he bought some second-hand tools and went to work on a trail. Not
a hundred feet down-stream from where the vein cropped out, the main
trail crossed to the east side of the creek, leaving the mine on the
side of a steep hill. A few days' work, while he was waiting for his
powder, would clear out the worst of the cactus and catclaws and give
him free access to his hole. Then he could clean out the open cut, set
up a little forge and prepare for the driving of his tunnel. The sun was
blazing hot, not a breath of wind was stirring and the sweat splashed
the rocks as he toiled; but there was a song in Denver's heart that made
his labors light and he hummed the "Barcarolle" as he worked. She was
scornful of him now and thought only of her music; but the time would
come when she would know him as her equal, for a miner can be an artist,
too. And at swinging a double-jack or driving uppers Denver Russell was
as good as any man. He worked for the joy of it and took pride in his
craft--and that marks the true artist everywhere.

Yet now that his sale had been consummated and he had the money he
needed, Bunker Hill suddenly lost all interest in Denver and retired
into his shell. He had invited Denver once to come down to his house and
share the hospitality of his home; but, after Denver's brusque, almost
brutal refusal, Old Bunk had never been the same. He had shown Denver
his claim and stated the price and told a few stories on the side, but
he had shown in many ways that his pride had been hurt and that he did
not fully approve. This was made the more evident by the careful way in
which he avoided introducing his wife; and it became apparent beyond a
doubt in that tense ecstatic minute when Drusilla had come in from the
garden.

Then, if ever, was the moment when Denver should have been introduced;
but Bunker had pointedly neglected the opportunity and left him still a
stranger. And all as a reward for his foolish words and his refusal of
well-meaning hospitality. Denver realized it now, but his pride was
touched and he refrained from all further advances. If he was not good
enough to know Old Bunker's family he was not good enough to associate
with him; and so for three days he lived without society, for the
Professor, too, was