"Got yer b-b-bucket full, M-M-Mike?" he questioned, sending his deep,
sputtering voice far down into the depths below.
"Oi have thot," came the disgusted response from out the darkness. "Ye
measly spalpeen, ain't Oi bin shakin' of the rope fer twinty minutes?
Oi tought maybe ye'd run off an' left me to rot down in the hole. Whut
's up now, ye freckled-face ilephant, yer?"
Brown indulged in a cautious glance about, then stuck his almost boyish
face farther down within the safety of the hole before venturing an
explanation.
"B-B-Bill's g-gone to find s-s-some engi-n-neer w-with nerve 'nough ter
r-r-run our lines," he managed to spit out disjointedly. "S-s-says
he'll go plumb ter Denver 'fore he 'll g-g-give up, an' if he d-don't
f-find any sich he 'll c-c-come back an' p-p-perforate F-F-Farnham."
"Bedad!" a tinge of unrestrained delight apparent in the sudden roar,
"an' was he hot?"
"H-he sure was. He m-m-m-meant business all r-right, an' hed f-f-forty
rounds b-b-buckled on him. H-here goes, Mike," and Brown grasped the
warped handle of the windlass and began to grind slowly, coiling the
heavy rope, layer upon layer, around the straining drum. He brought
the huge ore-bucket to the surface, dumped its load of rock over the
edge of the shaft-hole, and had permitted it to run down swiftly to the
waiting Mike, when a slight noise behind sent the man whirling suddenly
about, his hand instinctively reaching forth toward the discarded but
ready rifle. A moment he stared, incredulous, at the strange vision
fronting him, his face quickly reddening from embarrassment, his eyes
irresolute and puzzled. Scarcely ten feet away, a woman, rather
brightly attired and apparently very much at her ease, sat upon a
rather diminutive pony, her red lips curved in lines of laughter,
evidently no little amused at thus startling him. Brown realized that
she was young and pretty, with jet black, curling hair, and eyes of the
same color, her skin peculiarly white and clear, while she rode man
fashion, her lower limbs daintily encased within leggings of buckskin.
She had carelessly dropped her reins upon the high pommel of the
saddle, and as their glances fairly met, she laughed outright.
"You mooch frighten, señor, and you so ver' big. It make me joy." Her
broken English was oddly attractive. "Poof! los Americanos not all
find me so ver' ter'ble."
Stutter Brown ground his white teeth together savagely, his short red
moustache bristling. He was quite young, never greatly accustomed to
companionship with the gentler sex, and of a disposition strongly
opposed to being laughed at. Besides, he felt seriously his grave
deficiencies of speech.