“Some of ’em load up an old shot-gun with a little charge o’ powder and a quarter of an ounce of gold-dust on top, fire that into the prospect hole a dozen times or so, and then take a sucker out to pan the stuff.  But I bet Si didn’t take any more trouble with you than to have some colours in his mouth, to spit in the shovel or the pan, when you wasn’t lookin’—­just enough to drive you crazy, and get you to boost him into a Recordership.  Why, he’s cleaned up a tub o’ money in fees since you struck the town.”

The Colonel moved uneasily, but faith with him died hard.

“McGinty strikes me as a very decent sort of man, with a knowledge of practical mining and of mining law—­”

Maudie made a low sound of impatience, and pushed her empty glass aside.

“Oh, very well, go your own way!  Waste the whole spring doin’ Si’s assessment for him.  And when the bottom drops out o’ recordin’, you’ll see Si gettin’ some cheechalko to buy an interest in that rottin’ hole o’ his—­”

Her jaw fell as she saw the Colonel’s expression.

“He’s got you too!” she exclaimed.

“Well, didn’t you say yourself that night you’d be glad if McGinty’d let you a lay?”

“Pshaw!  I was only givin’ you a song and dance.  Not you neither, but that pardner o’ yours.  I thought I’d learn that young man a lesson.  But I didn’t know you’d get flim-flammed out o’ your boots.  Thought you looked like you got some sense.”

Unmoved by the Colonel’s aspect of offended dignity, faintly dashed with doubt, she hurried on: 

“Before you go shellin’ out any more cash, or haulin’ stuff to Glory Hallelujah, just you go down that prospect hole o’ McGinty’s when McGinty ain’t there, and see how many colours you can ketch.”

The Colonel looked at her.

“Well, I’ll do it,” he said slowly, “and if you’re right—­”

“Oh, I’m all right,” she laughed; “an’ I know my McGinty backwards.  But”—­she frowned with sudden anger—­“it ain’t Maudie’s pretty way to interfere with cheechalkos gettin’ fooled.  I ain’t proud o’ the trouble I’ve taken, and I’ll thank you not to mention it.  Not to that pardner o’ yours—­not to nobody.”

She stuck her nose in the air, and waved her hand to French Charlie, who had just then opened the door and put his head in.  He came straight over to her, and she made room for him on the bench.

The Colonel went out full of thought.  He listened attentively when the ex-Governor, that evening at Keith’s, said something about the woman up at the Gold Nugget—­“Maudie—­what’s the rest of her name?”

“Don’t believe anybody knows.  Oh, yes, they must, too; it’ll be on her deeds.  She’s got the best hundred by fifty foot lot in the place.  Held it down last fall herself with a six-shooter, and she owns that cabin on the corner.  Isn’t a better business head in Minook than Maudie’s.  She got a lay on a good property o’ Salaman’s last fall, and I guess she’s got more ready dust even now, before the washin’ begins, than anybody here except Salaman and the A.C.  There ain’t a man in Minook who wouldn’t listen respectfully to Maudie’s views on any business proposition—­once he was sure she wasn’t fooling.”