“I’m afraid he was right,” said Eve, sadly.  “When I was a little girl my father and Ed’s father had some sort of a misunderstanding and would never have anything to do with each other afterwards.  It made it very hard for mamma, for she and Aunt Mary were very fond of each other.  Please tell me about Cousin Edward, Mr. Herrick.  I think I only saw him once or twice in my life, but he was my cousin just the same, and now that he’s dead I suddenly realize that all the time I was unconsciously taking a sort of comfort out of the knowledge that somewhere I had some one that belonged to me, even if I never saw him and hardly knew him.  What was he like?”

“A big, silent, good-hearted fellow.  I think there was a resemblance to you, Miss Walton.  He was dark complexioned, with almost black eyes, but—­there’s something in your expression at times—­that reminds me of Ed.”  Wade frowned and studied the girl’s face.  “But I have a photograph of him at the Camp.  I’ll send for it.  Shall I?”

“It wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

“No trouble at all.  I’ll just send a wire to Whitehead, the superintendent.  I met Ed in a queer way.  It was at Cripple Creek.  I’d been there almost a year.  After my mother died there wasn’t anything to keep me at home in Virginia, and there wasn’t much money.  So I hiked out to Colorado, thinking about all I’d have to do was to cinch up my belt and start to pick up gold nuggets in the streets.  The best I could find was work with a shovel in one of the mines over Victor way.  Then I got work in another mine handling explosives.  I got in front of a missed hole one fine day and was blown down a slope with about a hundred tons of rock on top of me.  As luck had it, however, the big ones wedged over me and I wasn’t hurt much, just scratched up a bit.”

“But that was wonderful!” breathed Eve.

“Yes, it was sort of funny.  I was covered up from one in the afternoon until five, quite conscious all the time and pretty well scared.  You see, I couldn’t help wondering just what would happen if the rocks should settle.  My eyes got the worst of it and I had to stay in the hospital about a month.  But I’m afraid I’m boring you.  I was just leading up to my meeting with Ed.”

“Boring me!  Don’t be absurd!  Then what happened?”

“Well, after I got out of the hospital I bought a burro and a tent and hiked out for the Sangre—­for the southern part of the State.  I still had some money coming to me for work when the trouble happened, and after I got out I cashed an accident policy I’d luckily taken out a month before.  I stayed in the mountains pretty much all summer prospecting.  I found the biggest bunch of rock I’d ever seen, but no yellow iron—­I mean gold.  Came sort of near starving before I got out.  I sold my outfit and went back to Cripple and struck another job with the shovel and pick, digging prospect ditches.  It was pretty tiresome work and pretty cold, too.  So when I’d got a month’s wages I told the boss he’d either have to put me underground or I’d quit.  I said I was a miner and not a Dago.  You see, I felt independently rich with a month’s wages in my jeans—­pockets, that is.  The boss said I could quit.  I’ve been wondering ever since,” laughed Wade, “whether I quit or was fired.”