Brooke only smiled, but a little flush crept into Jimmy's face, for men do not express their sentiments dramatically in that country, that is, unless they are connected with mineral speculations or the selling of land. "Of course!" he said. "I fancy I shall remember it." They turned away together to inspect the result of the shot, and one of the miners who looked after them nodded approval. "When that man takes hold of anything he puts it through 'most every time," he said. "There's good hard sand in him." In the meanwhile Jimmy glanced at his comrade, apparently with an entire absence of interest, out of half-closed eyes. "I guess you were too busy to see a friend of yours a little while ago?" he said. "I expect I was," said Brooke. "Anyway, nobody I'm acquainted with is likely to be met with in this part of the province, unless it was Saxton." "No," said Jimmy, "it wasn't him. Saxton doesn't go trailing round in a big white hat and a four-decker skirt with a long tail to it." Brooke turned a trifle sharply, and glanced at him. "You mean Miss Heathcote?" "Yes," said Jimmy, reflectively, "if it's the one that was Barbara last time, I guess I do. You have been finding out the rest of it since you met her at the ranch? She was up yonder ten minutes ago." He pointed to a forest-covered ridge above the mine, but Brooke, looking up with all his eyes, saw nothing but the serried ranks of climbing pines. As it happened, however, the girl, who stood amidst their shadows, saw him, and smiled. She had noticed Jimmy's pointing hand, and fancied she knew what his companion was looking for. "Then you are certainly mistaken," he said. "There is nowhere she could be staying at within several leagues of the Canopus." "There's the Englishman's old ranch house Devine bought. It's quite a good one." Brooke started a little, and Jimmy, who was much quicker of wit than some folks believed, noticed it. "She certainly couldn't be staying there. It's quite out of the question," he said, with an assurance that was chiefly intended to convince himself. "Well," said Jimmy, who appeared to ruminate, "I guess you know best. Still, I can't think of any other place, unless she's living in a cave." Brooke said nothing further, but signed to the men who were waiting, and proceeded to roll the shattered rock out of the course of his flume. He felt it was certain that Jimmy was mistaken, for the only other conclusion appeared preposterous, and he could not persuade himself to consider it. Still, he thought of the girl with the brown eyes often while he swung axe and hammer during the rest of the afternoon, and when he strolled up the hillside after the six o'clock supper he was thinking of her still. He climbed until the raw gap of the workings was lost among the pines, and then lay down.