THE PROSPECTOR
—still pushes his small pack-mule through the snow of glacial passes seeking the unexplored, and therefore more alluring, mountain range.
VI
THE PROSPECTOR
Old Pogosa was seated in the shade of a farm-wagon, not far from the trader's store at Washakie, eating a cracker and mumbling to herself, when a white man in miner's dress spoke to her in a kindly voice and offered her an orange. She studied him with a dim, shining, suspicious gaze, but took the orange. Eugene, the grandson of her niece, stood beside the stranger, and he, too, had an orange.