“Don’t you do any work in the camp, then?”
“Not to-day. You see it’s a kind of holiday.”
“Why?”
“The work here is finished. I’m getting ready to leave. As soon as Georgev—that’s the guide, you know—gets back, I shall be off.”
“I suppose I am not to ask what the work was?” She asked this with a smile and a shrug, contriving to convey the impression that while she was impatiently curious the question had behind it no vestige of distrust.
“I did not intend to tell you, but if you wish it I will. This is a prospecting expedition. I’ve been looking to see if any mines could be opened here. Of course, it’s a sort of secret, you know.”
“Oh, you’re hoping to make money here?” and the glance she gave at my clothes told me her thought. “You are an engineer?”
“No, I am a prospector. I have done it before in the States.”
“I hope you will be successful. But I am sure you will. You are the kind of man that does succeed; so masterful, I mean.” We both smiled at the word. “Yes,” she added, as if in answer to my thought; “I am judging by what has just occurred, for one thing.”
“I am afraid I seem a bit of a brute.”