a prospector? You talk like the people
back home! But, I'll show you all. My father made a strike. He told me
of it on his death-bed, and he gave me the map, and the photographs
and his samples. Maybe when I locate this mine and begin taking out
more gold every day than most of you ever saw, you won't talk of
people 'fooling around' prospecting. I tell you prospectors are the
finest men in the world! They must have imagination, and unending
patience, and the heart to withstand a thousand disappointments--" She
broke off suddenly as the soft rattle of bit-chains sounded from
behind her, and whirled to face Vil Holland. The man regarded her
gravely, unsmiling. A gauntleted hand raised the Stetson from his
head. As her eyes took in every detail, from the inevitable leather
jug, to the tip of polished buffalo horn, she flushed. How long had he
stood there, listening?

The cowpuncher seemed to divine her thoughts. "I just happened along,"
he said regarding her with his steady blue eyes. "I couldn't help
hearin' what you said about the prospectors. You're right in the
main."

"I was speaking of my father. I am Rodney Sinclair's daughter."

The man nodded. "Yes, I know."

Watts rubbed his chin apologetically. "We-all thought a right smart o'
yo' pa, didn't we, Vil? I didn't aim to rile yo'."

"I know you didn't!" the girl smiled. "And thank you so much for
bringing my things up so early." She turned to the cowboy who sat
regarding the outfit indifferently. "I hope you'll overlook my lack of
hospitality, but really I must get to work and help Microby or she'll
have the whole house cleaned before I get started."

"I saw the team here, an' thought I'd swing down to find out if Watts
was movin' in another sheep outfit."

"I've heard about your driving away the sheep man," returned Patty,
with more than a trace of sarcasm in her tone. "I am moving into this
cabin--am taking up my father's work where he left off. I suppose I
should ask your permission to prospect in the hill country."

"No," replied the man, gravely. "Just help yourself, only don't get
lost, an' remember yer dad knew enough to play a lone hand. I must be
goin', now. Good day." He turned his horse to see Microby standing in
the doorway. "Hello, Microby Dandeline! House cleanin', eh? I s'pect
you took in the picture show in town?"

"Yes, but circusts is better. I got some yallar ribbon fer my hat, an'
a awful lot o' candies."

"My, that's fine! How's ma a