"Should say so. They're about crazy over her. She's been the cause of many a row, an' several shootin' rackets."
"Does she favor anyone?"
"Not as fer as I know. She's in a class all by her lonesome, an' well able to take care of herself. She's not anxious fer lovers, so I understand, at least, not the brand ye find up here. She's some lass, all right, an' whoever succeeds in winnin' her'll be a mighty lucky chap."
"What does her father do? Is he a miner?"
"It's jist hard to tell what Jim Weston does an' what he doesn't do. No one seems to know fer sartin. He lives like a lord on Big Lake, way over yonder," and Samson motioned to the east. "All the folks know that he lives thar with his lass, guarded by a hull pack of Injuns. But what he does an' what he doesn't do is a mighty problem."
"His daughter travels, though, and alone at that, doesn't she?"
Reynolds queried.
"Occasionally. Jim's givin' her an eddication, so I hear. She must be comin' back now, as this is vacation time."
"But what happened to her, do you suppose, after the dance that night?"
Reynolds asked. "She disappeared as if by magic, and I believe the big
Indian had something to do with it."
"How d'ye know she disappeared?" was the sudden and somewhat embarrassing question.
Reynolds laughed, and his face flushed. He knew that he had betrayed himself, and that the prospector noted his confusion.