about time. I wonder how
much credit Murray gave me?"

Drusilla said nothing. She was looking far away and wondering at the
thing we call life.

"Why do you work so hard?" she inquired, half complainingly. "Is that
all there is in the world?"

"No, lots of other things," he answered carelessly, "but work is the
only way to get them. I'm on my way, see? I've just begun. You wait till
I open up that mine!"

"Then what will you do?" she murmured pensively, "go ahead and open up
another mine?"

"Well, I might," he admitted. "Don't you remember that other treasure?
There's a gold-mine around here, somewhere."

"Oh, is that all you think about?" she protested with a smile. "There
are lots of other treasures, you know."

"Yes, but this one was prophesied," returned Denver doggedly. "I'm bound
to find it, now."

"But Denver," she insisted, "don't you see what I mean? These
fortune-tellers never tell you, straight out. Yours said, 'a golden
treasure,' but that doesn't mean a gold mine. There are other treasures,
besides."

"For instance?" he suggested and she looked far away as if thinking of
some she might name.

"Well," she said at length, "there are opals, for one. They are
beautiful, and look like golden fire. Or it might be a rare old violin
that would bring back your music again. I saw one once that was golden
yellow--wouldn't you like to play while I sing? But if you spend all
your life trying to grub out more riches you will lose your appreciation
of art."

"Yes, but wait," persisted Denver, "I'm just getting started. I haven't
got a dollar to my name. If Murray don't send me the supplies that I
ordered I'll have to go to work for my grub. The jewels can wait, and
the yellow violins, but I know that she meant a mine. It would have to
be a mine or I couldn't choose between them--and when I make my stake
I'm going to buy out the Professor and see what he's got underground. Of
course, it's only a stringer now but----"

"Oh dear," sighed Drusilla and then she rose up, but she did not go
away. "Aren't you glad," she asked, "that we've had this week together?
I suppose I'm going to miss you, now. That's the trouble with being a
woman--we get to be so dependent. Can I play over your records,
sometimes?"

"Sure," said Denver, "say, I'm going up there now to see if McGraw isn't
in sight. Would you like to come along too? We can sit outside in the
shade and watch for his dust, down the road."

"Well, I ought