"Why, you're a regular preacher, ain't you? You used to be a ladies' man."
"That was in California."
"How's the wild and woolly?" asked Collins, presently, looking his old pal over contemptuously.
"Oh, I know I ain't stylish like you Eastern dudes. I'm a honest miner, I am. And I don't wear boiled shirts like you."
"You're honest, all right. We'll leave that to Sheriff Carter. Remember how he caught you stealing that Chinaman's dust? I can see that Chinaman's sign now: 'Heekee & Co., Gold Dust Bought.' By the way, what's become of my old flame back there?"
"Oh, a lady? I don't remember no ladies that was acquainted with gents like us."
"I don't reckon you know the girl I mean. She wasn't in your class, that's a fact."
"Maybe I can tell you if you'll just say her name."
"Well, I'm inquiring after Miss Mamie Slocum, the sweetest little girl in Nevada City."
"You're joking, sure. That girl never had any use for the likes of you. Mat Bailey would knock your head off if he heard you breathe her name."