“Don’t mind the boys,” he advised. “It’s just their way of showing how much they think of our baby. You know, ma’am, this town claims the young lady. We’ve adopted her, but if you say ‘Please’ real nice we’ll let you bring her up.” Mollie’s bosom warmed within her. A lump rose in her throat and her eyes misted. For years she had been the chattel of Robert Dodson, a creature to be sneered at, derided, and beaten. This splendid-looking hero of romance treated her as though she were a lady. She wondered who he could be. Among all these rough-bearded miners he shone like diamonds in a mud heap. His clothes, manner, speech, the musical intonation of his voice, all set him apart from other men, she thought, even if his figure and face had not marked him for distinction. A big blond lawyer with a long yellow beard was at the head of the committee appointed to count the money. His name was William M. Stewart. Later he represented Nevada in the United States Senate for many years. At the request of Scot McClintock he made the presentation speech, the baby in his arms at the time. The total amount collected ran over thirty-two hundred dollars. Robert Dodson had been drinking more or less all day. He had taken the opportunity to celebrate rather steadily during the parade, since, as father of Virginia, he had been offered a nip at many bottles. Now he unwisely presented himself to take charge of the fund raised. Stewart looked at him carefully, then exchanged glances with Scot. “Friends,” said the future Senator, “I move a committee of three to take charge of Miss Virginia’s educational fund. If this is satisfactory I shall ask the citizens of the camp to name the trustees.” It was so voted. When the time came to name the custodians of the fund the crowd shouted “McClintock” and “Stewart.” The big blond lawyer consulted with Scot. “Mr. McClintock and I are glad to serve as trustees in your behalf, gentlemen,” announced Stewart. “With your permission we shall name Robert Dodson, the father of Virginia, as the third member.” In the months that followed, Dodson flew into a rage whenever the trust fund was mentioned. He insinuated to his cronies over the bar that McClintock and Stewart were manipulating the money to their own advantage. The fact was that they refused to let their co-trustee get his fingers on any of it to dissipate. CHAPTER VI HUGH SITS IN