"My, that supper smells good!" he exclaimed, as he laid his rifle aside. "I am almost starved."
"Have you travelled far to-day, daddy?"
"Yes. I have been over several of the creeks. I wanted to find out how much Dick knows about the condition of the miners out there."
"And did you?"
"Partly. I've not been over all the creeks yet, but so far I have learned that he is right. There will certainly be much suffering this winter."
Martin said nothing more about his visit to the creeks, but that evening, much to Nance's surprise, he brought forth his violin, and asked her to accompany him. It was the first time that he had done such a thing since the arrival of the miners.
"What shall we play, daddy?" Nance queried as she tuned up her violin.
"Something sweet to-night, little one. Anything that strikes the fancy."
He then began to play the air of "Ninety and Nine." "Sing it, Nance," he commanded. "Do you know the words?"
"I have them here in this book which Nurse Marion let me have," was the reply. "But, oh, I wish you could have heard her sing it last Sunday at service. It was wonderful, and the men were so still when she got through, except one person near the door."