onging to give her one good time, in spite of her
pride, became almost an obsession with them.

One day Betty begged so hard that the girl finally consented to take a
holiday and go out with them for a day's fun. But Meggy surrendered
reluctantly, in spite of the fact that this invitation of the girls had
been like a glimpse of wonderland to her.

"I reckon dad can get along one day without me, specially as the hermit
can do part of my work. Pa's broke him in so he can be real helpful
now----"

But she got no farther, for Betty threw her arms around the surprised
girl and hugged her happily.

"I'm awfully glad!" she cried, adding with eyes that sparkled: "I tell
you what I'll do. I'll let you ride Nigger. There's a darling little
brown colt over at the ranch that I've been just dying to try out."

Sudden tears sprang to Meggy's eyes, and with the disgust of all
mountain folk for the expression of sentiment, she turned away
impatiently to hide this tell-tale sign of weakness. But Betty had
glimpsed the tears and she was satisfied.

The day was all that even Meggy Higgins' starved imagination could have
expected of it. The miner's daughter was so beatifically happy that the
girls found a new and most satisfying thrill in her enjoyment.

All her short, work-driven life Meggy Higgins had wanted a horse, a
beautiful, sleek animal with supple limbs and shining coat like the one
that she was riding now--Betty's Nigger. Many have desired a fortune,
some political fame, others social position, but Meggy merely desired a
horse. And even this had been denied her because her father had been
dazzled by the lure of gold, a fortune always just before his eyes, but
never to be grasped.

The girls were sorry for old Dan Higgins and his thwarted hopes. But
they were infinitely more sorry for this girl of his to whom hardship
was a daily reality and pleasure a golden vision to be indulged in only
by girls whose fathers did not own a worthless claim.

"Sometimes," spoke up Mollie, as she reined Old Nick into a walk, "I
wish I had the courage to rob somebody else's mine, Meggy, and plant the
gold in yours. It doesn't seem fair for you to work all the time and get
nothing for it."

The girl smiled sadly.

"I'm used to that," she said, with a grim philosophy far beyond her
years. Then she added, with a quick loyalty that made the girls' hearts
warm to her: "I don't mind. I'd do anything for dad an' I guess if he
thought I was ge