His bearishness in no way disconcerted the girl. She persisted, and dropped two spoonfuls of granulated sugar into his cup.
“Some folks need sugar,” she remarked, with another giggle, as she moved away. And somehow it was Bill who had suffered loss of dignity.
This only helped to aggravate his mood, and he turned his small eyes sharply on Sandy.
“I’m needin’ someone to work a claim fer me,” he said in a voice intended to reach every ear, and as he spoke a curious look came into his eyes. It was half a grin, half a challenge, and wholly meant mischief.
The effect was exactly as he had calculated. The entire attention of the room was on him at once, and he warmed as he waited for Sandy’s reply.
“You––you got a claim?” the widower inquired blankly.
Bill licked his lips after devouring a mouthful of pie.
“An’ why in hell not?” he retorted.
Before Sandy could gather an adequate reply, the matter was taken up by a young miner further down the table.
“Wher’ you got it, Bill?” he inquired, with genuine interest.