“Where have you been so long?  Why didn’t you let me know you were back?”

“I just got in.  I’ve been everywhere.”  He smiled down at her, and she clutched the lapel of his coat, then drew him out of the crowd.  “I dropped in to see how you were getting along.”

“Well, what do you think of the place?”

“Why, it looks as if you’d all get rich in a night.”

“And you?  Have you done anything for yourself?”

Pierce shook his head; in a few words he recounted his goings and his comings, his efforts and his failures.  Laure followed the recital with swift, birdlike nods of understanding; her dark ayes were warm with sympathy.

“You’re going at it the wrong way,” she asserted when he had finished.  “You have brains; make them work.  Look at Best, look at Miller, his new partner; they know better than to mine.  Mining is a fool’s game.  Play a sure thing, Pierce.  Stay here in town and live like a human being; here’s where the money will be made.”

“Do you think I want to go flying over hill and dale, like a tumbleweed?  I haven’t had warm feet in a week and I weep salt tears when I see a bed.  But I’m no Croesus; I’ve got to hustle.  I think I’ve landed something finally.”  He told of Tom and Jerry’s offer, but failed to impress his listener.

“If you go out to Hunker Creek I’ll scarcely ever see you,” said she.  “That’s the first objection.  I’ve nearly died these last three weeks.  But there are other objections.  You couldn’t get along with those old men.  Why, they can’t get along with each other!  Then there’s Joe McCaskey to think of.  Why run into trouble?”

“I’ve thought of all that.  But Big Lars is on the crest of his wave; he has the Midas touch; everything he lays his hands on turns to gold.  He believes in Hunker—­”

“I’ll find out if he does,” Laure said, quickly.  “He’s drinking.  He’ll tell me anything.  Wait!” With a flashing smile she was off.

She returned with an air of triumph.  “You’ll learn to listen to me,” she declared.  “He says Hunker is low grade.  That’s why he lets lays on it instead of working it himself.  Lars is a fox.”

“He said that?”

“The best there is in it is wages.  Those were his very words.  Would you put up with Linton and Quirk and the two McCaskeys for wages?  Of course not.  I’ve something better fixed up for you.”  Without explaining, she led Pierce to the bar, where Morris Best was standing.

Best was genuinely glad to see his former employee; he warmly shook Pierce’s hand,

“I’ve got ’em going, haven’t I?” he chuckled.

Laure broke out, imperiously:  “Loosen up.  Morris, and let’s all have a drink on the house.  You can afford it.”

“Sure!” With a happy grin the proprietor ordered a quart bottle of wine.  “I can afford more than that for a friend.  We put it over, didn’t we, kid?” He linked arms with Pierce and leaned upon him.  “Oy!  Such trouble we had with these girls, eh?  But we got ’em here, and now I got Dawson going.  I’ll be one of these Rockyfeller magnets, believe me.”