“That’s the way to do it, I reckon,” the miner agreed, with an unusual note of jubilance in his voice, as if at last he was really winning his way to public acceptance of his reformation. “And--you offered to shake hands a moment ago. I didn’t, because I never shake hands with an enemy; but now---- Do you mind? We’re friends, aren’t we?” * * * * * She took the hand that he suddenly held out to her, and something in its warmth of grasp seemed to soften the habitual defensive hardness of her eyes. It was quite like a reconciliation between two first-class fighters after a feud. “Needless to say you are welcome in the Alamo whenever you care to come,” she said, moving away. “I don’t drink,” he answered. As if this was a reflection on her business, she turned suddenly and left with him a parting shot. “Probably it’s a good thing for the camp that you don’t!” He believed he caught the faint notes of mocking laughter as she walked away, and wondered what she meant by that. He stood watching her for a moment and thought: “She walks like Cathcart used to, but she does talk like Riggs. I wish I knew which she is. Humph!” Almost absently, and pondering over many things, he made his way past the saddler’s and down the somnolent street to the Miners’ Emporium. “Can’t tell whether Pearl Brown’s a Riggs or a Cathcart,” he said, and, the hour being idle and the storekeeper lounging, retailed his recent encounter. “Great Scott!” exclaimed Fosdike. “That young woman and you become friends, and young Ring is out sticking up for you! That young man---- What do you think of this? He ambled in here a while ago, calm as you please, just as if him and me hadn’t been at cross ends ever since he came to this camp and says: “‘Fosdike, I’m not a man to bear a grudge. Also you sell good stuff, straight and clean. I’m going to buy anything I need here after this. Here’s an order.’ “Then he throws down a little list and walks out. Can you beat it?” “Does seem as if folks in this camp were sufferin’ a change of heart,” the miner agreed. “About time one of those revivalist chaps came along, I reckon. Seems too good to last. Ought to be clinched while the going is good, before anybody can backslide. Afraid something mighty bad’s about to happen.” But nothing did. Save for its occasional brawls and squabbles, all in the natural course of events, Murdock went its peaceful way. From the Placer City side, it looked clean and calm, sprawled in the sunshine, on the afternoon when Circumlocutory Smith and his partner Jim Clarke visited Placer City to inspect some secondhand mining material that they felt they could, in their increasing prosperity, afford.