"I suppose it's the gold which keeps you here. I should think that it would be nicer outside where you would meet more people, and life would not be so hard."
"So it would be, Miss. I would like to be near the place where my Nell is lyin'. But one needs the gold to live there, an' as soon as I git it I'm a-goin' to hike back. But there, I don't know as if the gold'll make me any happier. It's the searchin' fer it, an' the findin' it, that gives the pleasure."
"It must be nice outside," Nance remarked. "I have heard so much about the many things there that I should like to see them."
"Have ye never been outside, Miss?" Tom asked in surprise.
"No, I've lived all my life in the wilderness."
"What! Ye don't say so! Well, I declare! If that don't beat all!"
Just then the door opened, and Martin entered.
"I'm glad to see you sitting up," he began, coming close to Tom. "How are you feeling now?"
"Great. Never felt better in me life. An' why shouldn't I with sich comforts as a good fire, my pipe, an' yer sweet daughter to talk to me an' wait upon me? We've been havin' a fine time together."
"That's good," Martin returned. "But I think that supper will make you feel better still. We can have a pipe together afterwards. It's been a long time since I've had any one to smoke with except the Indians."