"Confound you," said Bill Gregg. "How come you guessed that?"
"I dunno. I just sort of scented what was coming."
"Well, anyways, that's what she done. And pretty soon she sent me a snapshot of herself. Well—"
"Lemme see it," said Ronicky Doone calmly.
"I dunno just where it is, maybe," replied Bill Gregg.
"Ill tell you. It's right around your neck, in that nugget locket you wear there."
For a moment Bill Gregg hated the other with his eyes, and then he submitted with a sheepish grin, took off the locket, which was made of one big nugget rudely beaten into shape, and opened it for the benefit of Ronicky Doone. It showed the latter not a beautiful face, but a pretty one with a touch of honesty and pride that made her charming.
"Well, as soon as I got that picture," said Bill Gregg, as he took back the locket, "I sure got excited. Looked to me like that girl was made for me. A lot finer than I could ever be, you see, but simple; no fancy frills, no raving beauty, maybe, but darned easy to look at.
"First thing I done I went in and got a copy of my face made and rushed it right back at her and then—" He stopped dolefully. "What d'you think, Ronicky?"
"I dunno," said Ronicky; "what happened then?"