he earthquake.
But he didn't get well: he had a stroke, instead, and died. And his
partner--they were lawyers--went away; all their books and papers and
everything had been burnt up, and he didn't seem to think he could ever
straighten things out; and when the vaults were opened, the paper money
I had in the box was all dust--and the insurance companies haven't
paid."

She shrugged her shoulders delicately over the situation, already
disgusted with herself at having descended to disclosing her private
affairs to a stranger.

Meanwhile, "So that's it," the stranger was saying. "I've wondered a
lot."

"You needn't have troubled."

"No trouble," he blandly assured her. "Houghton always was an
ass"--(Houghton was the younger lawyer. How had he known? the girl
wondered)--"lighting out for Goldfield when he ought to be here,
straightening out his clients' business. And so you went to work on some
beggarly salary, instead of seeing about having your property put in
shape again. Why didn't you lease, or----"

"I couldn't find out where it was," she retorted, furious. "I'd only
been here a week when the fire came; and not for years before that."

----"and not put yourself in a position where you get insulted by some
little scrub who isn't fit for you to walk on.--Are you going to faint?"

"No."

"Then what's the matter?" inquired the clod at her side.

"Nothing," she fibbed promptly. How different this creature was from
Bixler McFay! Bixler had never pried into her private affairs, or
evinced an interest in her possessions, or insisted on answers she did
not wish to give, or pursued topics she did not care for. Bixler had
none of the bluntness, the pigheadedness, the brutality of this--but
then, there was no comparing the two. Only, she had vowed not to think
of Bixler any more. He was not worth it.

"Nothing's the matter with me," she said. "Only, when I got back to the
boarding-house after--after downtown to-day, the landlady said I'd have
to pay sixty a month or leave at once, and--and she hadn't saved any
lunch for me, and----"

"And you've been eating----"

He looked at the candy-bag and the morsel of bun with horror.

"I thought they'd cheer me up," Ikey murmured meekly, "but they've made
me feel--kind of queer."

"That settles it." The big hand came down forcefully upon his knee.
"We'll get the thickest steak you ever laid your eyes on in about two
minutes. But first--we'll get married."

"What!"