Here seemed his opportunity. “Yes, but I'm afraid it hasn't the magic of yours. I haven't even got the color. I believe you bewitched your old pan.”
Her face flushed a little and brightened, and her lip relaxed with a smile. “Go 'long with yer! Ye don't mean to say ye had no luck to-day?”
“None—but in seeing you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Ye see, I said all 'long ye weren't much o' a miner. Ye ain't got no faith. Ef ye had as much as a grain o' mustard seed, ye'd remove mountains; it's in the Book.”
“Yes, and this mountain is on the bedrock, and my faith is not strong enough,” he said laughingly. “And then, that would be having faith in Mammon, and you don't want me to have THAT.”
She looked at him curiously. “I jest reckon ye don't care a picayune whether ye strike anything or not,” she said half admiringly.
“To please you I'll try again, if you'll look on. Perhaps you'll bring me luck as you did before. You shall take the pan. I will fill it and you shall wash it out. You'll be my MASCOT.”
She stiffened a little at this, and then said pertly, “Wot's that?”
“My good fairy.”
She smiled again, this time with a new color in her pale face. “Maybe I am,” she said, with sudden gravity.