Joshua had become an artistic hammerman, and, though the youngest man in his crew, he was a welcome addition. Always quiet and reserved, he had none of the qualities that often make youth obnoxious to such old-timers as it fell to his lot to labor with. And as he swung his striking hammer or turned the drill he thought of Madge Mundy of the frizzly bronze-gold hair, and wondered if ever he would find courage to go to her.
He began to realize now, with the girl so close to him, that he had come upon a wild-goose chase to seek her in the West. Since he had seen her last she had traveled over the United States and had had many experiences. While he on the other hand had been shut up behind gray walls with Clegg and his books and the telescope. His meeting with her had been a momentous episode in his life, for directly afterward he had been committed to the House of Refuge, where one lived over and over the bright spots in his past. But it was doubtful now if Madge even would remember him. More and more, as the days passed, he shrank from going to her camp.
California Bill had returned to Spur for more supplies directly after the first long pull into the mountains. Now, one evening, his six slick mules rolled into camp ahead of a load of grain and groceries, and Joshua met him as he came, weary and dusty but wearing his never-failing smile, from the stable tent.
“I’m goin’ to the Mundys’ camp to-morrow mornin’,” he said. “They’re gettin’ low on dynamite, an’ the boss says f’r me to hook up my wheelers an’ take ’em enough to tide ’em over till their freighters ramble in. To-morrow’s Sunday—better come along, Tony.”
“No, I’m not ready yet,” Joshua replied.
The slate-blue eyes studied him carefully. “Scared, eh?”
“I look so tough,” Joshua evaded. “I’ll wait till I’ve earned enough to get some halfway-decent clothes.”
“Uh-huh”—and California Bill waddled away to his bunk tent to prepare for supper.
Joshua did not see him again until Monday morning, and then he was perched on his high seat behind his long-eared hybrids, on his way to Spur for more supplies. And that same afternoon, as Joshua was turning a drill under the ringing blows of his three fellow-workmen, he heard the thud of horses’ hoofs close by, and the voice of the walking boss calling to the hammermen:
“Hold ’em a minute, fellas!”