"Not unless you name a very low figure, bishop."
"So I will," cries Lot. "I ain't no good at mining, nohow. If 'twas cattle, or farmin', I'd stand any man off!"
Then he names so low a sum that Travenion says: "All right! We'll draw up a deed this afternoon," and with that gives the foreman the necessary orders for closing the mine.
They all start down the hill together, though before leaving, Ralph gets a very grateful glance from his daughter, who, coming close to him, whispers: "You bought Kruger's stock so as to make the deed to Captain Lawrence. God bless you, father, for doing him justice!"
So they come down the trail, towards the main road, all apparently happy—Erma because she thinks Travenion's justice may make Harry Lawrence forget she is Tranyon's daughter; Kruger because he has got out of what he thinks a bad speculation with some little money; Ralph because his daughter's eyes are brighter and her step is lighter than at any time since she has known he was a Mormon.
As they are passing a pile of rocks that borders the trail, a sudden sound, like that of a dozen locusts, comes to them. Erma, with a little cry, gathers her skirts about her, and springs upon a near-by boulder. Travenion looks hurriedly about for a stick.
The next instant, Lot, who has lived all his life in wild places, has guessed the matter, and coming up, cries: "Why, it's a pesky rattler!" and with a handy rock smashes the head of a serpent that has coiled itself upon the trail, a little ahead of them.
"A rattlesnake! Oh, mercy!" screams Miss Travenion, scrambling higher up on her boulder of safety.
"You can come down, now, Erma," says her father. But she stands poised on her eyrie, and discusses the matter, making a picture that causes Lot's sturdy heart to beat harder than it did when climbing the mountain.
"Not yet—I have read of them. They travel in pairs!" she gasps.