‘Come as often as you can, my dear fellow,’ invited Longstreet.  But his eyes had wandered toward the mining site which should have been his, and his mind seemed to be less than half busied with Carr’s words.  Carr, turning in the saddle, narrowed his eyes upon the university man’s face and, thinking that he had caught his thought, said bluntly: 

‘It’s an infernal shame.  It’s all yours by right, and——­’

‘Oh,’ cried Longstreet grandly, ’I’m not worrying about a little diggings like that!  Let them have it!  Next time I’ll show them a real mine.’

‘Well, I wish you luck,’ rejoined Carr.  But there was no great conviction in his tone, since in his mind there was little expectation that lightning was going to strike twice in the same place.  However, the caution came to his lips involuntarily:  ’If there is a next time, I’d be mighty careful whom I told about it.  It will pay you to look out for that Murray woman.’

Longstreet’s face was puzzled and troubled.

’It does begin to look as though she gave me the—­the double cross, doesn’t it?’ he said as though he were afraid he must believe the worst of Sanchia Murray despite his wish in the matter.

‘It certainly does,’ grunted Carr.  ’She’s absolutely no good.  Everybody knows it.  Fight shy of her.  Well, so long.’

‘So long,’ repeated Longstreet absently.

Carr rode away.  Longstreet’s eyes, following the galloping horse, were still puzzled.  ‘I’m learning a thing or two,’ he told himself soberly as he went back into the cabin.  Many times he nodded his head thoughtfully.  ’I’ve lived too long in another sort of world; now I am coming to grips with real life, real men and women.  There’s a new set of rules to grasp.  Well,’ and he straightened his thin body and a flickering smile played over his lips, ’I can learn.  As Barbee says of stud poker:  “You’ve got to set tight and keep your trap shut and your eye peeled."’

Helen slept soundly all morning.  Longstreet dozed, studied the maps he had made during the last week and pottered.  At noon they lunched together, neither having a great deal to say.  Helen regarded her father more than ever as a baby who ought to be scolded and lessoned; still, like any doting mother, she found excuses for him and told herself that he had been amply punished for his indiscretion.  She, too, opined that he had learned a lesson.  Consequently she coddled him to such an extent that Longstreet remarked the fact and began to wonder just what Helen wanted now; no doubt she was going to ask something of him and was preparing the way after the approved and time-honoured custom.

But the day wore on with never a favour asked.  In the drowsy afternoon Helen coaxed her father into her room and dropped the shades and ordered him to sleep, telling him that he looked like a ghost of his former rugged beauty.  Then she sank down listlessly upon the doorstep, brooding, her eyes wandering through the green fields of Desert Valley.  Her musings were disturbed by the clatter of shod hoofs across the rugged plateau; she looked up quickly, her eyes brightening.  Then she saw that it was John Carr returning, and into her look there came an expression much resembling that which had been so much to-day in her father’s—­one of uncertainty.