“In his trouses’ pocket. I offered to keep it for him, but he said no, he’d keep it; then he’d know when he broke it. He’s had a letter sinse you was there from somewhere. Says he expects another with some money. He hain’t much now, and we fellers chipped in and made him up a little. We kind of like the cuss. He wants to sell that stun he wears on his little finger, but says this ain’t no place for that. Joe Newell, who’s great on jewelry, offered him twenty-five dollars for it, thinkin’ he was doin’ a big thing. You or’to seen Pennington’s face. ‘Twenty-five dollars!’ says ’ee. ‘Are you crazy? It cost three hundred.’ I don’t b’lieve it, do you? There’s his watch he’s goin’ to send to Helena, or Butte, when he gits a chance. Says that cost a hundred and fifty dollars. I don’t b’lieve it, do you? They’ve give him the best room up to the tavern, and he’ll pay, too. I b’lieve he’s honest for a New Yorker, but I can’t make him out. He never says a word about his folks, with all Lizy Ann’s pumpin’, and she’s good at that. She couldn’t git nothin’ from him. He talked about some gal with a queer name when he was outen his head before Miss Elithe came. Since then when he talked in his sleep it hain’t been that girl’s name, but two or three times he’s called for Elithe, Elithe, to git him outen some scrape.” Here Stokes gave another wink, which Elithe did not see. But her father did, and stopped the garrulous Stokes by abruptly changing the conversation and asking after the work in the mine in which he had a small interest. “Fust rate, fust rate. You’ll be a nabob some day, and I hope you will,” Stokes said, leaving Mr. Pennington and launching into the subject of the mines. “Well, good day,” he said at last. “I must be goin’ back. Keep an eye on New York; that’s what we call him, and don’t let him backslide. He never cussed but oncet comin’ here, and that was when we run over a boulder and sent him up about a foot. Good-bye.” He started to go, then stopped and added: “I reckon New York will he spectin’ some of you to call soon. It’s kind’er lonesome changin’ from the mines to the tarvern.”