and then a hard-worked mother would
bring her baby and sit as guest of honor in Simon's solitary
"cane-bottom," where she would inadvertently learn items of interest
with regard to "yon Cassius," or "bluff Harry," or a certain young lady
who was described as being "little" but "fierce,"--a good deal like
Molly Tinker whose "man" kept the "Golden Glory Saloon." On one
occasion a rattlesnake lifted its head drowzily from behind a rock near
by, and was despatched offhand by Simon. It was this exploit which
filled the measure of Simon's fame.

"Any fool kin learn readin' an' writin'," said Patsy Linders, the eldest
of the band, who, by the way, had yet to prove himself fool enough to do
so. "But I'll be durned if I ever seen a _stun_ fired as neat as that!"

"Simon's smarter 'n anybody," little Eliza declared in reply. "He's
smarter 'n you nor me, 'n he's smarter 'n David an' Goliath, 'n he's my
Simon!"

No one was disposed to question Eliza's prior claim to Simon. She always
sat beside him on the original settle against the lean-to. She would not
abdicate the seat even when the ground grew hot and pleasant and she saw
half her mates lying on the short sparse grass with their heels in the
air, conning their books, or falling asleep over them, as the case might
be. She felt it her prerogative to sit right there, with her chubby legs
sticking out in front of her; there, where she could pull at Simon's
sleeve and interrupt his discourse as often as she pleased.

And so it came about, that by the time spring had passed into summer,
sumptuous wildflowers succeeding the first little scrubby daisy, a
blessed idyl of quaint child life, dear to Simon's heart, had grown out
of the chance meeting on the hillside. It was as if Simon's clearing
were a charmed circle into which no evil could enter, to which no echo
of the greed and brutality of the mining-camp could make its way. When
his permission was respectfully asked to sink a few prospect holes on
his land, Simon unhesitatingly rejected the proposal, with all its
glittering possibilities. As soon would the President and Fellows of
Harvard College permit the sinking of prospect holes in the sacred
"yard" itself, as the Lame Gulch Professor allow his "school" to be
molested.

But, alas! it is written in the books that no earthly circle shall be
forever charmed, no human enterprise exempt from evil. And it was little
Eliza herself, Simon's champion and dictator, faithful, plucky