unsuggestive packing-cases it offered no indication to the curious
miners, and could be put up by himself and a single uncommunicative
Chinaman, without any one else being aware of its existence. There was,
indeed, something quaint in this fragment of Old World handicraft, with
its smooth-jointed paneling, in two colors, its little lozenge fretwork,
its lapped roof, overhanging eaves, and miniature gallery. Inartistic
as Madison was--like most men of rigidly rectangular mind and
principle--and accustomed to the bleak and economic sufficiency of the
Californian miner's cabin, he was touched strangely by its novel grace
and freshness. It reminded him of HER; he had a new respect for this
rough, sinful man who had thus idealized his wife in her dwelling.
Already a few Madeira vines and a Cherokee rose clambered up the
gallery. And here Mrs. McGee was sitting.

In the face that she turned upon the two men Madison could see that she
was not expecting them, and even in the slight curiosity with which
she glanced at her husband, that evidently he had said nothing of his
previous visit or invitation. And this conviction became certainty at
Mr. McGee's first words.

"I've brought you an ole friend, Safie. He used to spark ye once at
Angel's afore my time--he told me so; he picked ye outer the water
here--he told me that, too. Ye mind that I said afore that he was the
only man I wanted ter know; I reckon now it seems the square thing that
he should be the one man YOU wanted ter know, too. You understand what I
mean--you follow me, don't you?"

Whether or not Mrs. McGee DID follow him, she exhibited neither concern,
solicitude, nor the least embarrassment. An experienced lover might have
augured ill from this total absence of self-consciousness. But Madison