“Grayer!” Roberts laughed. “I made a microscopical examination recently for one hair of the original color to preserve as a relic. It was too late. Do you care to volunteer in the search?”
The girl ignored the invitation. 336
“What else did you do?” she asked.
“Worked some.” Roberts held up his great hands, calloused heavily over the palms. “I’ve learned several things by actual experience: drilling, dynamiting, sharpening steel, mucking ore, assaying—everything.”
“And what else?” relentlessly.
“Prospected a little. Ran out of provisions and went two days without a bite to eat. Returned to find a strike on at the mine—and the strikers in possession.” He halted reminiscently. “I knocked a man down that day: the leader. He dared me and there were a dozen others backing him up. It was him or me and it couldn’t be avoided. In the affair I hurt my hand; while it was healing I went to ’Frisco and took in the theatres.” He held up the member indicated, reversed this time for inspection. A white jagged scar ran diagonally over the knuckles. “It’s entirely well now.”
The girl caught her breath. No query this time.
The hand returned idly to the man’s lap. He looked away.
“It’s a rough life out there,” he resumed evenly, “wild and primitive; but it’s fascinating in a way. Besides, it’s one of the things I 337 wanted to know. I think I do know it. I don’t believe any one could fool me on a mine now.”
Elice Gleason looked at him steadily, until perforce he returned her gaze.