Every day for a week she went wood-hauling in the afternoons. Then a thaw set in, her customers came back, and the old rush began.
One evening, when February was well on its way, a member of the Syndicate dropped in late to buy his supper, and then remained to talk.
He was an elderly man, who should have been rich enough by this time to have ceased living such a toilsome life, only the trouble was that although he could earn as much money as any man, he could not save it. This individual went by the name of Ike, and Nell could never discover that he had any other. She always called him Mr. Ike, a circumstance which appeared to afford him great amusement. But she had long since found that “With what measure you mete, it shall be measured to you again,” was as true in the simple things of life as in the great issues of the soul; and because she always treated her customers with a ceremonious civility, she invariably received from them a similar courtesy in return.
“Good evening, Miss Hamblyn,” said the miner, lifting his cap with a flourish when he entered the room, then dropping it back on his head with a weary air as he subsided on to the bench near the door.
“Good evening, Mr. Ike. Have you been taking a holiday?” she asked; for she had not seen Ike, who was one of her most regular customers, for nearly a fortnight.
“Yes; and I’ve been quite a considerable way too. Had a run down to Vancouver City, and spent ten days or more loafing round hearing the news.”
“You must have found the city pretty lively after Camp’s Gulch,” remarked Nell, as she ladled a pint of soup into the miner’s tin can.
“It was a sight too lively for me. I suppose I must be getting old and rusty, for I find I ain’t half nimble enough to keep up with city folks nowadays,” he answered, rather gruffly; by which she understood that he had been gambling, and had probably lost almost all the cash he had taken with him, and had returned with empty pockets.
“You would not find it so cold in Vancouver City as here among the hills?” she asked.
“It was cold enough. A sharper spell of winter weather than we often get in these parts,” he answered. Then, suddenly remembering an item of news which might interest her, he lifted his head and became talkative. “I heard a little about a friend of yours away down in the city,” he said, with a short gruff laugh.