They exchanged glances. Hildegarde was so sure Louis wouldn’t go away and leave such an individual hanging about that she felt no surprise at hearing him offered money “to come along and show the way.” When the two had agreed on the price of this service, Cheviot said: “I’ll be ready in a minute. I want to find a more comfortable seat for this lady,” and off he bolted toward the rocks. The man eyed Hildegarde askance, and made some observation. “I can’t hear you,” she called, above the noise of the surf. He shuffled nearer. “Ain’t you goin’, too?” “Out to the mines? No.” “What y’ goin’ t’ do?” he asked. The girl laughed. “Oh, just stay here and look at things.” “What things?” The uneasy eye shot out a sudden alert beam. She only smiled, as her own glance wandered to the wider vision. “I got some ‘things’ to see after m’self,” he said in a surly tone. “Guess I ain’t got time to go to no gulch to-day.” The girl fell a prey to misgiving lest this incident should end in dissuading Louis from leaving her at all. Was her insistence upon coming to result in defeat of the expedition? The shifty man had drawn a trifle nearer still and lowered his voice. “What made yer land here?” “It didn’t seem to matter where we landed. There’s no harbor.” “But here yer so—” It occurred to Hildegarde, for some inexplicable reason, he was going to add, “so near that hut,” instead of what he did say, “so fur from town.” At the obvious suspicion on the man’s face, Hildegarde smiled to herself. If this uncouth apparition had inspired distrust in the new arrivals, their appearance had precisely the same effect on him. “Y’ might ’a’ come and gone before anybuddy in the town knowed we’d had visitors,” he said, with an air indescribably sly. “Well, you see, our business isn’t in the town. We’re nearer the diggings here, aren’t we?” “Guess yer been here afore.” “No, neither of us.” “Then yer better come along with me and him, an’ have a look at the gulch.” So he didn’t, after all, want to remain behind and murder her for her watch! “No, I shall stay here, and while you and my friend are gone, I’ll practise shooting at a mark.” As she drew her little revolver out of her pocket, and the silver mounting caught the sunlight, she recognized herself for a very astute person. Louis, if no one else, might quite well need reminding that she was armed. “Y’ won’t go?” the man persisted. “Well, I guess I ain’t got time fur it neither. I ought to see a man up at the store.” In the act of going forward to meet Cheviot with this information, the unaccountable creature paused to say over his shoulder: “Yer sure to git a nugget if yer go to the gulch.” “I’d go quick enough if I could walk.” He faced about. “Y’ can’t _walk_!” It seemed somehow to make a difference, but he narrowed his little eyes. “Why can’t yer?” “I’ve sprained my ankle.” “Oh! Bad?”