"If you are bothered about us, Judge Breckenridge," said Bet, linking her arm in his and skipping into step beside him, "You might just as well not think about it. We didn't like it at first either, but now we don't care at all—not much, I mean. It will save us lots of work. And probably we couldn't be mine owners very well, anyway."
"You're a great little girl, Bet!" The Judge patted her hand affectionately. "You're a sport, all right. Now, I'm mad clean through!"
"That's what I thought, and I have never seen you angry before."
"I'm sorry, child, I didn't mean to have you see me in this mood, ever," said the Judge with a trembling voice.
"But I'm so glad I did. I usually snap and snarl when I have a temper spell, and I did not know it could be done in such a dignified way. I think it was wonderful!"
The Judge stopped short in his walk and laughed, his voice echoing through the patio.
Enid heard it in her own room and came on the run to see what amused her father so greatly. When she saw Bet, she smiled.
"I might have known it was you. Dad always laughs at you." And the tall girl slipped up at the other side of her father, and snuggled close with her head on his shoulder.
"Two daughters are better than one!" The grey-haired man clasped his girl to him as if he had not seen her for weeks. Then turning to Bet he said:
"Aren't you going to work your one claim?"