"That referred to the copper," answered Denver soberly. "It was your father that gave me the tip. When I first came over here I was inquiring for gold, because I knew I had to make a choice; but he pointed out to me that these horoscopes are symbolical and that the golden treasure might be copper. It looks a whole lot like gold, you know; and now just look what happened! I chose the silver, see--I chose the right treasure--and when I drifted in, this vein of chalcopyrites appeared and was added to the silver. It followed along in the hanging wall until the whole formation dipped and then----" "Oh, I don't care about that!" burst out Drusilla fretfully, "it's easy to explain anything, afterwards! But of course if you think more of gold and silver than you do of having me for a friend----" "But I don't," interposed Denver, gently taking her hand. "Sit down here and let's talk this over." "Well," sighed Drusilla and then, winking back the tears, she sank down in the shade beside him. "I don't want you to think," went on Denver tenderly, without weighing very carefully what he said, "I don't want you to think I don't like you, because--say, if you'll kiss me, I'll take a chance." "Oh--would you?" she beamed her eyes big with wonder, "would you take a chance on my killing you?" "If it struck me dead!" declared Denver gallantly, but she did not yield the kiss. "No," she said, "I don't believe in kisses--have you kissed other girls before? And besides, I just wanted to be friends again, the way we were before." "Well, I guess you don't want to be friends very bad," observed Denver with a disgruntled smile. "When do you expect to start for the East?" "Pretty soon," she answered. "Will you be sorry?" Denver shrugged his shoulders and began snapping pebbles at an ant. "Sure," he said and she drew away from him. "You won't!" she burst out resentfully. "Yes, I'll be sorry," he repeated, "but it won't make much difference--I don't expect to last very long. I've always had a pardner, some feller to ramble around with and borrow all my money when he was broke, and I'm getting awful lonesome without one. Sooner or later, I reckon, I'll pick up another one and the crazy danged fool will kill me. Drop a timber hook on my head or some stunt like that--I wish I'd never seen old Mother Trigedgo! What you don't know never hurt anyone; but now, by grab, I'm afraid of every man I throw in with. For the time being, at least, he's the best friend I've got; and--oh, what's the use, anyway, it'll get you, sooner or later--I might as well go out like a sport." "You were awful brave," she murmured admiringly, "when you fought with Mr. Chatwourth yesterday. Weren't you honestly afraid he would kill you?" "No, I wasn't!" declared Denver. "He didn't look bad to me--don't now and never did--and as long as the cards are coming my way I don't let no alleged bad-man run it over me. Here's the gun that I took away from him."