generally attributed to differences between himself and his partners
on the question of further outlay of their earnings on mining
improvements--he and Philip Carr alone representing a sanguine minority
whose faith in the future of the mine accepted any risks. It was alleged
by some that he had sold out to his brother; it was believed by others
that he had simply gone to Sacramento to borrow money on his share,
in order to continue the improvements on his own responsibility. The
partners themselves were uncommunicative; even Whiskey Dick, who since
his remarkable social elevation had become less oracular, much to his
own astonishment, contributed nothing to the gossip except a suggestion
that as the fiery temper of George Kearney brooked no opposition,
even from his brother, it was better they should separate before the
estrangement became serious.

Mr. Carr did not disguise his annoyance at the loss of his young
disciple and firm ally. But an unlucky allusion to his previous remarks
on Kearney's attentions to Jessie, and a querulous regret that he had
permitted a disruption of their social intimacy, brought such an ominous
and frigid opposition, not only from Christie, but even the frivolous
Jessie herself, that Carr sank back in a crushed and terrified silence.
"I only meant to say," he stammered after a pause, in which he, however,
resumed his aggrieved manner, "that FAIRFAX seems to come here still,
and HE is not such a particular friend of mine."

"But she is--and has your interest entirely at heart," said Jessie,
stoutly, "and he only comes here to tell us how things are going on at
the works."

"And criticise your father, I suppose," said Mr. Carr, with an
attempt at jocularity that did not, however, disguise an irritated