"They never think of going East."

"No, the West is the only place for a man in trouble--at least, so it
seems to me."

"Where did you go? What did you do?"

He mused again as if recalling his struggles. "I dropped off in Kansas
and got a job on a farm and fussed around there for the fall and winter.
Then I got the minin' fever and came to Victor. Of course, there wasn't
anything for a grass-cutter like me to do in the hills but swing a pick.
I didn't like underground work, and so I went on a ranch again. Well, I
kept tryin' the minin' game off and on, prospectin' here and there, and
finally I got into this leasin' business, and two years ago I secured a
lease on the 'Red Cent' and struck it good and plenty. Oh, I don't
intend to say it's any Portland--but it pays me and I've been stackin'
up some few dollars down at the Commercial Bank, and feelin' easy."

The man's essential sturdiness of character came out as he talked, and
his face lost the heavy and rather savage look it had worn at first. I
had taken a seat beside him by this time and my sincere interest in his
affairs seemed to please him. He was eager to talk, as one who had been
silent for a long time.

I led him back to the point of most interest to me. "And so at last you
relented and went home? I hope you found the old folks both alive? Did
they know where you were?"

"Yes. My sister saw my name in a paper--when I made my stake--and
wrote, and mother used to send word--used to mention dad occasionally."
He laughed silently. "It sure is great fun, this goin' back to the home
pasture with a fat wad in your pants pocket--Lord! I owned the whole
town."

"Tell me about it!" I pleaded.

He was ready to comply. "Our house stood near the railway, about four
miles this side of Jackson, and you bet I had my head out of the winder
to see if it was all there. It was. It looked just the same, only the
old man had painted it yellow--and seemed like I could see mother
settin' on the porch. I'd had it all planned to hire the best automobile
in town and go up there in shape to heal sore eyes--but changed my plan.

"'I'll give 'em more of a shock if I walk out and pretend to be poor and
kind o' meek,' I says to myself.

"So I cached my valise at the station and I wallered out there through
the dust--it was June and a dry spell and hot. Judas priest! I thought
I'd sweat my wad into pulp before I got there--me just down from the
high country! On the way I got to won