'"Boys, here's to her."

'Like a flash every glass was emptied, and Abe called out, "Fill her up
again, boys! My treat!"

'He was evidently quite worked up. Then he began, with solemn emphasis--

'"Boys, you hear me! She's a No. 1, triple X, the pure quill with a bead
on it: she's a--," and for the first time in his Black Rock history Abe
was stuck for a word. Some one suggested "angel."

'"Angel!" repeated Abe, with infinite contempt. "Angel be blowed," (I
paraphrase here); "angels ain't in the same month with her; I'd like
to see any blanked angel swing my team around them curves without a
shiver."

'"Held the lines herself, Abe?" asked a miner.

'"That's what," said Abe; and then he went off into a fusilade of
scientific profanity, expressive of his esteem for the girl who had
swung his team round the curves; and the miners nodded to each other,
and winked their entire approval of Abe's performance, for this was his
specialty.

'Very decent fellow, Abe, but his talk wouldn't print.'

Here Craig paused, as if balancing Abe's virtues and vices.

'Well,' I urged, 'who is she?'