“What did you do then?”
“I’m afraid an account of all my shifts and adventures would be monotonous. Sometimes I had two or three hundred dollars in hand, sometimes I had nothing but a suit of shabby clothes; but when things were at the worst some new chance always turned up, and I wandered about the Pacific slope until I fell in with Clay again.”
“Then you didn’t go to him when you left the A.C.C.?”
“No; he had done me one good turn, and I couldn’t be continually asking favors.” Osborne paused and his face turned graver. “Besides, there were respects in which we didn’t agree; and in those days I had an independent mind.”
“Haven’t you now?”
“I’ve learned that it’s sometimes wiser to reserve your opinions,” said Osborne dryly. “You can best be independent when you have nothing, because it doesn’t matter then whom you offend.”
“Was Clay prosperous?” Ruth asked.
“He was getting known as a man who would have to be reckoned with; but he was short of money and was ready for a shot at anything that promised a few dollars. Clay never shirked a risk, but I believe he was honestly glad to see me, and in a moment of expansion I told him about the Snowy Creek mine and the gold that would be waiting for me when I could return.”
“Ah! I was waiting until you came to that again. I felt its importance. It was the mine that made you rich and surrounded me with a luxury I was half afraid of at the beginning, wasn’t it?”
Miss Dexter came toward them along the terrace and Osborne smiled as he indicated her.