and about
_there_." He pointed with a stout and horny finger.

"How did you know?"

"Well, you see, little Dave Dennison--you remember Dave? You taught
him."

"Perfectly--I mean, I remember him perfectly. He is now in New York."

"Yes. Well, Dave he used to be sweet on Phrony, and he seems to be still
sweet on her."

Mr. Keith nodded.

"Well, of course, Phrony she's lookin' higher than Dave--but you know
how women air?"

"I don't know--I know they are strange creatures," said Keith, almost
with a sigh, as his past with one woman came vividly before him.

"Well, they won't let a man go, noway, not entirely--unless he's in the
way. So, though Phrony don't keer nothin' in the world about Dave, she
sort o' kep' him on-an'-off-like till this here young Wickersham come
down here. You know, I think she and him like each other? He's been to
see her twicet and is always a--writin' to her?" His voice had an
inquiry in it; but Keith took no notice of it, and the old man went on.

"Well, since then she's sort of cooled off to Dave--won't have him
around--and Dave's got sort of sour. Well, he hates Wickersham, and he
up and told her t'other night 't Wickersham was the biggest rascal in
New York; that he had 'most broke his father and had put the stock of
this here new mine on the market, an' that he didn't have coal enough in
it to fill his hat; that he'd been down in it an' that the coal all come
out of our mine."

Keith's eyes glistened.

"Exactly."

"Well, with that she got so mad with Dave, she wouldn't speak to him;
and Dave left, swearin' he'd settle Wickersham and show him up, and
he'll do it if he can."

"Where is he?" asked Keith, in some anxiety. "Tell him not to do
anything till I see him."

"No; I got hold of him and straightened him out. He told me all about
it. He was right much cut up. He jest cried about Phrony."

Keith wrote a note to Wickersham. He referred to the current rumors that
the cutting had run over on their side, suggesting, however, that it
might have been by inadvertence.

When this letter was received, Wickersham was in conference with his
superintendent, Mr. Matheson. The interview had been somewhat stormy,
for the superintendent had just made the very statement that Keith's
note contained. He was not in a placid frame of mind, for the work was
going badly; and Mr. Plume was seated in an arm-chair listening to his
report. He did not like Plume, and had wished to speak privately