“That’s us, ma’am.”
“Thought so. My name’s Mehitabel Crump, with Mrs. for a handle. I’m goin’ to open up an ore outcrop. This here is Thady Shea, my partner. Want work, or not?”
“I’ve heard of you, ma’am,” said Gilbert.
“So’ve I!” exclaimed Lewis. “You bet we want work! Only, ma’am, we’d ought to tell ye square that they’s apt to be warrants out for us.”
“Warrants never made me lose sleep,” said Mrs. Crump, eying them with a nod of satisfaction. “Howsomever, I’ll return the favour by saying that if ye take up with me it ain’t goin’ to be no pleasure trip, gents. ’Cause why, I’ve got something good, something that’ll bring Mackintavers on the trail soon’s he smells it—him or his friends. I don’t aim to be bluffed out, I don’t aim to be bought out, and I don’t aim to be lawed out; I got something big, and I aim to hang on to it spite of hell and high water until I sell out big. Them’s my openers.”
“They’re plenty, ma’am,” said Gilbert. “We sure would admire to work for you!”
A brief discussion followed as to wages. Thaddeus Roscius Shea sat jack-knifed in the car’s front seat, saying not a word. His face was sun-blistered and graven with gnawing desire, his black eyes were feverish, he looked anything but a mining man. Yet the two miners, who must have felt more than a slight curiosity touching him, evinced none. At length Mrs. Crump turned to the car.
“Well, pile in here! Make room in the back, but handle them boxes gentle. Three or four holds blasting powder and dynamite. I had quite a stock left over, and brung it along.”
“Do we travel far?” asked Lewis, nervously.
“You bet we do! But don’t worry none. I ain’t much farther from them boxes than you boys are, and I’m pickin’ the soft spots in the road. Besides, I’ve driv’ several hundred mile a’ready with this here outfit, and she ain’t gone up on me yet. Barring bad luck, we’d ought to get where we’re goin’ by the night of day after to-morrow.”