"But Denver," she insisted, "don't you see what I mean? These fortune-tellers never tell you, straight out. Yours said, 'a golden treasure,' but that doesn't mean a gold mine. There are other treasures, besides." "For instance?" he suggested and she looked far away as if thinking of some she might name. "Well," she said at length, "there are opals, for one. They are beautiful, and look like golden fire. Or it might be a rare old violin that would bring back your music again. I saw one once that was golden yellow--wouldn't you like to play while I sing? But if you spend all your life trying to grub out more riches you will lose your appreciation of art." "Yes, but wait," persisted Denver, "I'm just getting started. I haven't got a dollar to my name. If Murray don't send me the supplies that I ordered I'll have to go to work for my grub. The jewels can wait, and the yellow violins, but I know that she meant a mine. It would have to be a mine or I couldn't choose between them--and when I make my stake I'm going to buy out the Professor and see what he's got underground. Of course, it's only a stringer now but----" "Oh dear," sighed Drusilla and then she rose up, but she did not go away. "Aren't you glad," she asked, "that we've had this week together? I suppose I'm going to miss you, now. That's the trouble with being a woman--we get to be so dependent. Can I play over your records, sometimes?" "Sure," said Denver, "say, I'm going up there now to see if McGraw isn't in sight. Would you like to come along too? We can sit outside in the shade and watch for his dust, down the road." "Well, I ought to be studying," she assented reluctantly, "but I guess I can go up--for a while." They clambered up together over the ancient, cliff-dwellers' trail, where each foothold was worn deep in the rock; but as they sat within the shadow of the beetling cliff Drusilla sighed again. "Do you think?" she asked, "that there will be a great rush when they hear about your strike down in Moroni? Because then I'll have to go--I can't practice the way I have been with the whole town filled up with miners. And everything will be changed--I'd almost rather it wouldn't happen, and have things the way they are now. Of course I'll be glad for father's sake, because he's awfully worried about money; but sometimes I think we're happier the way we are than we will be when we're all of us rich. What will be the first thing you'll do?"