"In the school of experience, I guess. It's the only school in which some people'll ever learn anything."
"Chiefly babies and fools, so I've heard," Reynolds replied. "I was certainly a fool, all right, for not obeying orders and leaving a moose alone unless one is in need of meat. But, then, things turned out all right after all. If I had not got lost, I would not have reached Glen West as I did."
"An' not have found the gold, either."
"Why, did you hear about the discovery?" Reynolds eagerly asked.
"Sure. I heard all about it, an' how ye staked a claim fer yer old pardner, Frontier Samson. It was sartinly kind of ye to think of me."
"But I didn't stake any claim for you," Reynolds confessed, while his face crimsoned.
"Ye didn't, eh? An' we was pardners, too! Wall, that's queer."
"Oh, I am sorry," the young man acknowledged. "But I staked two claims, so you shall have one of them. How will that do?"
"No, thank ye. I've got enough to do me, I guess, to the end of me tether. An', besides, mebbe you'll need a hull gold mine to keep a-goin' by the looks of things. Women need a lot these days." His eyes twinkled as he turned them upon Glen's face, and noted that she was blushing, for she understood the meaning of his words. "But, then, it'll all depend upon the woman," he continued, "Now, some wouldn't be satisfied with a dozen gold mines, while others would be perfectly contented with a little log shack, so long as the place was built of love. I guess that'd be the way with you, Miss, from what I've seen of ye. But, hello! who's this? Why, it's the rascal Dan, I do believe! He seems to be in a hurry."
And Dan certainly was in a hurry. He was not at all inclined to talk, but anxious to get along as fast as possible.