r claims. And
they've got to do their filing in Shoshone. I suppose their notices are
up O.K. I wonder, now, how they intend to manage that? I believe," she
mused, "they'll have to go in person--I don't believe Baumberger can do
that all himself legally. I've got some of daddy's law-books over in my
trunk, and maybe I can look it up and make sure. But I know they haven't
filed their claims yet. They've GOT to take possession first, and
they've got to show a sample of ore, or dust, it would be in this case.
The best thing to do--" She drew her eyebrows together, and she
pinched her under lip between her thumb and forefinger, and she
stared abstractedly at Good Indian. "Oh, hurry up, Grant!" she cried
unguardedly. "Think--think HARD, what's best to do!"

"The only thing I can think of," he scowled, "is to kill that--"

"And that won't do, under the circumstances," she cut in airily.
"There'd still be the eight. I'd like," she declared viciously, "to put
rough-on-rats in his dinner, but I intend to refrain from doing as I'd
like, and stick to what's best."

Good Indian gave her a glance of grateful understanding. "This thing
has hit me hard," he confided suddenly. "I've been holding myself in all
day. The Harts are like my own folks. They're all I've had, and she's
been--they've all been--" Then the instinct of repression walled in his
emotion, and he let the rest go in a long breath which told Miss
Georgie all she needed to know. So much of Good Indian would never find
expression in speech; all that was best of him would not, one might be
tempted to think.

"By the way, is there any pay dirt on that ranch?" Miss Georgie kept
herself rigidly to the main subject.

"No, there isn't. Not," he added dryly, "unless it has grown gold in
the last few years. There are colors, of course. All this country
practically can show colors, but pay dirt? No!"

"Look out," she advised him slowly, "that pay dirt doesn't grow over
night! Sabe?"

Good Indian's eyes spoke admiration of her shrewdness.

"I must be getting stupid, not to have thought of that," he said.

"Can't give me credit for being 'heap smart'?" she bantered. "Can't
even let me believe I thought of something beyond the ken of the average
person? Not," she amended ironically, "that I consider YOU an average
person! Would you mind"--she became suddenly matter of fact--"waiting
here while I go and rummage for a book I want? I'm almost sure I have
one on mining laws. D