Beth Norvell

The pessimistic Michael slowly blew a cloud of pungent smoke into the

air, sucking hard at his pipe-stem, and laid his rough hands on the

windlass handle.

"None o' my dommed funeral, beggin' yer pardon, miss," he condescended

to mutter in slight apology. "Long as the pay goes on, Oi 'd jist as

soon work on top as down below. H'ist the female into the bucket, ye

overgrown dood!"

Stutter Brown, still nervous from recurring doubts, awkwardly assisted

his vivacious charge to attain safe footing, anxiously bade her hold

firmly to the swaying rope, and stood, carefully steadying the line as

it slowly disappeared, hypnotized still by those marvellous black eyes,

which continued to peer up at him until they vanished within the

darkness. Leaning far over to listen, the young miner heard the bucket

touch bottom, and then, with a quick word of warning to the man

grasping the handle, he swung himself out on the taut rope, and went

swiftly down, hand over hand. Mike, still grumbling huskily to

himself, waited until the windlass ceased vibrating, securely anchored

the handle with a strip of raw-hide, and composedly sat down, his teeth

set firmly on the pipe-stem, his eyes already half closed. It was an

obstinate, mulish old face, seamed and creased, the bright sunlight

rendering more manifest the leather-like skin, the marvellous network

of wrinkles about eyes and mouth. Not being paid for thought, the old

fellow now contented himself with dozing, quite confident of not being

quickly disturbed.

In this he was right. The two were below for fully an hour, while

above them Mike leaned with back comfortably propped against the

windlass in perfect contentment, and the hobbled pony peacefully

cropped the short grass along the ledge. Then the brooding silence was

abruptly broken by a voice rising from out the depths of the shaft,

while a vigorous shaking of the dangling rope caused the windlass to

vibrate sharply. Old Mike, with great deliberation stowing away his

pipe, unslipped the raw-hide, and, calmly indifferent to all else

except his necessary labor, slowly hauled the girl to the surface. She

was radiant, her eyes glowing from the excitement of unusual adventure,

and scrambled forth from the dangling bucket without awaiting

assistance. Before Brown attained to the surface, the lady had safely

captured the straying pony and swung herself lightly into the saddle.

Squaring his broad shoulders with surprise as he came out, his face

flushed, his lips set firm, the young giant laid restraining fingers on

her gloved hand.

"Y-y-you really m-mean it?" he asked, eagerly, as though fearing the

return to daylight might already have altered her decision. "C-can I

c-call on you wh-wh-where you s-s-said?"