"But I do—I've got to!" cried Meggy tensely. "Why, it seems like a dream. But I'm so happy, so wildly happy——" A sob caught in her throat and she paused for a moment, then went on swiftly, the words tumbling over each other in her eagerness: "It was jest this morning that it happened, jest a little while ago. You know we have been workin' awful hard the last few days, an' I was getting worried over dad again. He was gittin' that thin an' weak an' kind o' discouraged, too. Seemed like he'd jest made up his mind that there wasn't no luck fer him nowhere's.
"Then——" she leaned forward, her eyes black as coals, her fingers clasped convulsively in front of her. "Then we uncovered it, that first little narrow vein o' gold runnin' through the rocks. I thought dad would go plumb crazy when he seen it. Honest, I was skeered for a minute, till I recollected thet joy never killed nobody.
"Then I began to be skeered fer myself. I felt so kind o' queer an' wobbly inside o' me. Then dad came runnin' out to show the other fellers what he'd found, an' seemed like they went crazy too.
"Then you come an'—an'—I guess thet's 'bout all."
The girls drew a long breath.
"All," repeated Grace, softly. "I should think it was about enough for one day!"
"An' now," said Meggy, in a small little voice, "poor old dad an' me, we're rich—rich! Think of it—Meggy an' her dad! Now I can buy a hoss like—like—Nigger, mebbe——"
"You funny girl," cried Betty, hugging her fondly. "Of course you can buy a horse—a dozen of them if you want to. But wouldn't you like anything else? Pretty clothes, a beautiful house to live in——"
"Yes," agreed Meggy, but without any special enthusiasm. "I used to think when you gals come around lookin' all pretty an' stylish in your nice clothes thet I would like to dress thet way myself ef I wasn't as poor as dirt. An' I would like to live in somethin' besides a shack an' have sheets enough to your beds so's you could change 'em every day ef you wanted to. Sure, I'd like them things.
"But a hoss——" Her voice lowered almost to a reverential pitch. "Ever sence I grew to be a long-legged gal, seems like all I've really wanted was a hoss. I s'pose," she turned dark, rather wistful eyes on the girls, "it's purty hard for you gals to understand what I'm talkin' about. You never longed fer a thing so's your heart ached till it seemed like it was dead inside of you. So you might think I was foolish to take on so 'bout only a hoss."