“Pardoned!” burst out Denver and then he stopped and shook his head regretfully. “No,” he said, “I wish you had, though. I traded my mine for it–to Murray!”
“Why, Denver!” she cried, “you did nothing of the kind. I got you that pardon myself! And then, after all that–and after I’d played, and sung, and waited for you–you wouldn’t even come down to see me!”
“Why, sure I would!” he protested brokenly, “I’d do anything for you, Drusilla! But I was afraid you wouldn’t want me. I’ve been in prison, you know, and it makes a difference. They call me an ex-con now.”
“No, but Denver,” she entreated, “surely you didn’t think–why, we asked you to come and stay with us.”
“Yes, I know,” he said but the sullen look had come back; he could not forget so soon. “I know,” he went on, “but it wouldn’t be right–I guess we’ve made a mistake. I wanted to see you, Drusilla; 256I gave everything I had, just to get here before you went─”
“Did you really?” she asked taking him gently by the hand and looking deep into his eyes, “did you give up your mine–for me?”
“Just to see you,” answered Denver, “but after I got here─”
“Oh, I’m so glad!” she sighed, “and you haven’t lost your mine. I got to the Governor first.”
“You did?” he cried and then he sat up and the old fire came back into his eyes. “That’s right,” he laughed, “you must have beat him to it–I thought that pardon came quick! This’ll cost old Murray a million.”
“No, you haven’t lost your mine,” she went on, smiling curiously. “You think a lot of it, don’t you?”