"Legree!"
The girl nodded her blond head vigorously.
"Yes! He's stolen Mrs. St. Claire's slaves, and she and Little Eva are out in the cold."
"What the deuce are you talking about?"
"Gordon, of course, and the two Gerards, Natalie and Gloria—'Town Hall, To-night. Come one, Come all!'"
"Oh!" O'Neil's eyes brightened.
"There have been terrible goings-on over at Hope. I went up yesterday, in my official capacity, to reconnoiter the enemy's position and to give him a preliminary skirmish, but the great man was sulking in his tent and sent word by a menial for me to begone or look out for the bloodhounds. Isn't he the haughty thing? I don't like to 'begone'—I refuse to git when I'm told, so, of course, I paid my respects to Natalie and her mother. But what do you think I found? Mrs. St. Claire desolated, Eva dissolved in tears and her hair down."
"Will you talk sense?"
"Just try a little nonsense, and see. Well, the great eruption has taken place and the loss of life was terrible. Among those buried in the cinders are the dusky-eyed heroine and her friend mother. It seems Eva had a hand in the overseer's exposure—"
"Yes, yes! It's about those coal claims. I knew it was coming."