"If you marry me," continued the widow, "you can work that claim. You're a strong, able-bodied man, and a year from now, if you want to, we'll go to the city, and settle down. I'm older than you; but a matter of a few years don't make much difference. You were robbed, you told me?"
"Yes, of all that I had."
"How much was it?"
"About two hundred dollars."
"That ain't much."
"It's a good deal when it's all you have," answered Miles.
"If you marry me you won't miss it," said Mrs. Brown. "I won't give you my money right off, for you might run off with it, but at the end of the first year you shall have half of it. There's a parson a few miles up the cañon, at Dirt Hole, that will marry us any time we ride over. What do you say, stranger?"
It was an embarrassing moment for John Miles. He had no desire to succeed the deceased Brown, notwithstanding the little property he had left behind him. Mrs. Brown did not in the least resemble the wife of whom he had sometimes dreamed. But how could he decline without exciting the resentment of that singular female? He bore in mind that Mrs. Brown carried a revolver, and she might take a notion to shoot him down. He must temporize.
"Your proposal is a very kind and flattering one, Mrs. Brown, but I don't care to marry just at present. I want to go to the city and try my fortune. I've only lately arrived in California, and I am not ready to settle down yet."
To his relief Mrs. Brown accepted his objection in good part.