fallen upon another of his own sex, its glance had been less frank and
careless. Certain traits of possible impatience, which might develop
into man-slaying, were coming to the fore. Yet a word or a gesture of
Flip's was sufficient to change that manner, and when, with the fretful
assistance of her father, she had prepared a somewhat sketchy and
primitive repast, he questioned the old man about diamond-making. The
eye of Dad kindled.

"I want ter know how ye knew I was making diamonds," he asked, with a
certain bashful pettishness not unlike his daughter's.

"Heard it in 'Frisco," replied Lance, with glib mendacity, glancing at
the girl.

"I reckon they're gettin' sort of skeert down there--them jewelers,"
chuckled Dad, "yet it's in nater that their figgers will have to come
down. It's only a question of the price of charcoal. I suppose they
didn't tell you how I made the discovery?"

Lance would have stopped the old man's narrative by saying that he
knew the story, but he wished to see how far Flip lent herself to her
father's delusion.

"Ye see, one night about two years ago I had a pit o' charcoal burning
out there, and tho' it had been a smouldering and a smoking and a
blazing for nigh unto a month, somehow it didn't charcoal worth a cent.
And yet, dog my skin, but the heat o' that er pit was suthin hidyus
and frightful; ye couldn't stand within a hundred yards of it, and they
could feel it on the stage road three miles over yon, t'other side the
mountain. There was nights when me and Flip had to take our blankets