“Oh, that’s it, of course,” said the Colonel. “They say the Gracey boys have really struck it this time. I heard some talk of it before I came up. The report down below was that it was a pretty good thing.” “You bet,” said the young woman with a knowing air. “Nearly a year ago one of the gentlemen connected with it said to me, ‘We’ve got a mine there; bed-rock’s pitchin’ and there’s two bits to the pan.’ So I wasn’t surprised when I heard they’d struck it. They’re goin’ to build a twenty-stamp mill next thing you know.” “Good for them!” said the Colonel. “The Gracey boys have been mining for years all over this country and in Mexico and Nevada, and this is the first good thing they’ve got. How far is it from here?” “About twelve miles up in that direction--” she gave a jerk of her hand to the right--“up on the other side of the South Fork. They have to come here for everything. Barney Sullivan, the superintendent, does most of their buying.” She looked at the Colonel with a wide-eyed, stolid gaze as she gave this insignificant piece of information. The look suggested to her vis-à-vis that the information was not insignificant to her. “Barney Sullivan,” he said, “I remember him. He’s been with them for some years, was in Virginia City when they were there. He’s a good-looking fellow with red hair.” “Good-lookin’, did you say?” exclaimed Mitty, in a high key of scornful disbelief. “Well, that’s more’n I can see. Just a red-headed Irish tarrier, with the freckles on him as big as dimes. It’s a good thing all the world don’t like the same kind of face.” Her scorn was tinctured with the complacence of one who knows herself exempt from similar charges. Mitty, secure in the knowledge that her own patronymic was Bruce, affected a high disdain of the Irish. She also possessed a natural pride on the score of her Christian name, which in its unique unabbreviated completeness, was Summit, in commemoration of the fact that upon that lofty elevation of the Sierra she had first seen the light. “You’ll be able to see all the Buckeye Belle crowd to-night,” she continued; “they’ll be in now any time. There’s going to be a party here.” The Colonel looked up from his plate with the thrust-out lips and raised brows of inquiring astonishment. “The devil you say!” he ejaculated. “I arrived just at the right moment, didn’t I? I suppose I’ll have to stand round looking at the men knifing each other for a chance to dance with Miss Mitty Bruce.” Mitty wriggled with delight and grew as pink as her dress. “Well, not quite’s bad as that,” she said with bridling modesty, “but I can have my pick.”