"Say! You know you get it!" he told her. "You go on at eight and come off at midnight."
"What is the pay?"
"I pay my dealers an ounce a shift, but—you can write your own ticket.
How is two ounces?"
"I'll take regular wages," Rouletta smiled.
Miller nodded his approval of this attitude; then his face clouded. "I've been wondering how you're going to protect your bank-roll. Things won't always be like they were to-day. I s'pose I'll have to put a man on—"
"I'll protect it," the girl asserted. "Agnes and I will do that."
The proprietor was interested. "Agnes? Holy Moses! Is there two of you?
Have you got a sister? Who's Agnes?"
"She's an old friend of my father's."
Miller shrugged. "Bring her along if you want to," he said, doubtfully, "but those old dames are trouble-makers."
"Yes, Agnes is all of that, but"—Rouletta's eyes were dancing—"she minds her own business and she'll guard the bank-roll."