While in sight of it he paused, and had any one been near, it would have been to see Shadow raise his hand and shake that slender forefinger in that peculiar way of his.
Then he was gone.
Little dreaming of the mine that was preparing beneath his feet, McGinnis, with plenty of money in his pockets, which meant unlimited rum while it lasted, considered himself in clover.
He did not issue from his house until just after sunset.
On his way up the street his attention was drawn to a rather showy-looking woman—a blonde—coming from the opposite direction.
She was young, not much over twenty, was tolerably well dressed, and wore a derby hat with a decidedly rakish air.
All told, there was a certain jauntiness about her bearing telling so plain a story that most men would have turned aside to let her pass.
Not so McGinnis.
He winked at her.
Without an instant's loss of time she winked back.