“But he’s left the mining business. He’ll not trouble himself.”
“Not unless he sees more money in it. Matters have not been going his way lately. Someone has been dogging his steps, and his business is falling off. You know there’s really little money in that business if a man keeps within the law.”
“Well, I pity that man Hobart if your friend begins his work. Hobart’s a fine fellow, but is not accustomed to deal with men in the underbrush.”
“Hobart will take care of himself. He’s had his eye on—”
At this moment the porter came to her assistance and Elizabeth heard no more. She wondered at their talk, but she was not uneasy. She had unbounded faith in her father, and felt that he would be able to protect and take care of himself under all circumstances. Entering the car, she deposited her sleeping burden on the seat. The others followed with the boy and the wraps.
Landis and Min had finished their lunch. There were several sandwiches, a chicken breast, half a bottle of olives, and cake untouched. This Landis gathered together in a heap in her napkin. She arose and leaned toward the window. As she did so, the lady with whom Elizabeth had been talking touched her on the arm. But it was too late. The contents of the napkin had at that moment gone out the window.
“I beg pardon,” she said, “I was about to ask you not to throw that good lunch away. There’s a woman, a foreigner, with her children in the rear of the coach, who has had nothing to eat.”
“I do not know that it is my place to provide it for her,” cried Landis, with a haughty toss of her head.
“I am sorry that you see the matter in that light,” was the rejoinder. “There are so many little mouths to be fed that I dislike to see good food wasted. Extravagance can be so extreme as to become a sin.”
“I do not know that it is anyone’s affair what I do with my lunch,” was the response.