CHAPTER XII

GOLDIE PICKENS, having contrived to make Mrs. Eden feel that she was in the wrong about something, tripped out of the cottage, and went forth, as it were, to seek her fortune. She had an appointment with George Nicodemus for the discussion of his mining operations; moreover, there was the probability of a tête-à-tête with Peter, and the possibility of a meeting with Atterton. True, she had disposed of Groner, having found him impecunious and inclined to monopolize her, and hamper her movements; while from the tenor of a note received from Winthrop, inclosing a muchneeded check, she concluded that she had removed the wealthy widower from the sphere of her attraction. But Peter always remained, and his position in the bank assured him a living. He was such a certain quantity, that Goldie could well afford to speculate on the r's and y's in life's equations.

As she skirted the barbed wire that protected freshly laid cement, she first took up Atterton. Here was a young man, the son of an immensely rich orchardman, unmarried, and, according to the neighbors, who felt sure in the premises, impartial in his attentions to Core City girls. Were he in love with any one living at a distance, of course, everybody would know her name and degree. There was, therefore, no such complication. Now, Goldie possessed a vital secret concerning this young man, a secret she had gained by listening at

the kitchen door with as meek and conscientious a face as is consistent with the act of eavesdropping. She had overheard most of the conversation between Mrs. Eden and Winthrop Thornberry. How could this

secret be used to bring Atterton under her influence? It was a matter that required delicate handling; perhaps it would be best to allow natural events to shape her course.

Catching sight of Sylvester Mulkey, the young lady quickened her steps. Here was a man resolved to assume importance in the community, even if he must use a church-quarrel as a stepping-stone. Goldie could not but respect such a desperate straining after respectability, and it was more from sympathy than from any calculating motive, that she made haste to overtake the opponent of concert pitch.

That grave and conscientious gentleman had been delayed, owing to the strong reluctance Hodgins Thornberry felt toward proceeding with the house-moving. Hodgins had finally agreed to go for the rollers and ropes, and take up his work where he had dropped it some days before, owing to constitutional inertia.

"Colonel Mulkey," said Goldie, in gentle sympathy, "I grieved to be present at your interview with Mrs. Eden, for it wounded me to witness her unforgiving spirit. You were acting as you thought best, and when conscience directs, what do we care if all the rest of the world opposes us?"

"You're right, Miss Pickens. I thank you. You understand me. If that piano had been tuned low—” "There would never have been any trouble," sighed Goldie.

"To the church," Mr. Mulkey concluded. "I have done my duty. I feel at peace with all the world, per

fectly satisfied,—or at least I should be, could I but get my house moved."

"There is another thing I desire to speak to you about, senator," said Goldie sadly. "You will remember when you were driven out of Mrs. Eden's home with your family, in time of need, the excuse given was, that Miss Mary's sister would soon come home, and must have your room. Well; I have just learned that that sister is not coming home for a whole year. Mrs. Eden herself told me that Ruth-that's her name-is traveling in the far West."

"You amaze me!" exclaimed Mr. Mulkey, stopping abruptly upon the sidewalk. "I knew that Mrs. Eden advocated concert pitch in the teeth of the best churchworkers, but I never dreamed that she could be guilty of dissimulation.”

"Perhaps," sighed Goldie, "dissimulation and concert pitch go together."

Having sown this good seed, the music-teacher parted from the "senator" and went to the central office of the Nicodemus Mining Company. She was expected, and George Nicodemus waited alone in the stuffy little room over the printing office where so many golden hopes were anchored.

"No, I must not sit down," said Goldie, modestly realizing that she was alone with a marriageable man. She gave him a deprecating glance from under her drooping lids, as if excusing herself for having come without a lady companion. A slight flush showed in her pale cheek.

George's desire to win her approbation made him appear drier and stiffer than ever. He rattled the prospectuses, and jarred the can of crude oil. To hide his embarrassment he began talking as to a man:

"There can be no doubt that we have a deep vein of copper, and almost-well, practically, an inexhaustible vein, Miss Pickens. It is right here" He smote a rude pen-and-ink map with his clawlike finger. "I will read you the geologist's report."

He did so. It was a very long report. Goldie thought that if dryness was an indication of copper, there must be a vein running through the report. When he had finished, she asked, as she wearily rested her hand upon the desk:

"Then would you advise me to buy copper shares, or oil shares?" George Nicodemus looked at her intently. Goldie waited, her meek face drooping, in a confiding attitude.

The master mind said abruptly, "It's a great cross to me, Miss Pickens, that I am thrown with people like you only in a business way!"

"But," said Goldie shyly, "you are more than a man of business to me, because you are dear Mrs. Eden's cousin. Do not feel like a stranger, please. Call me 'Miss Goldie.' All my friends call me so. I like that."

"And I like it!" George declared. He laid his finger upon another part of the map, and said, "I wish there were as much gold in this section as there is in your name!"

"Then-but- Then you think the oil-wells" "Miss Goldie," said the other abruptly, "look here! I own the canning factory, and the evaporator, and the produce house, and the shipping houses where apples are sorted and barreled. All these things bring in a handsome income. But what are apples to diamonds? What is a canning factory to an oil-well? Now, look here! I haven't sold out my business, and put my money in these wells and mines, have I?"

"You mean- -" said Goldie blankly.

"I believe," said George, waving his hand at the map, "that all those things-copper, zinc, oil, silver-are in the Ozarks. But they're underground, Miss Goldie, underground; and I'm wrastling with a living up here on the surface.”

"So you wouldn't advise me to buy shares?" Goldie felt a disappointment greater than she could have thought possible. It is strange what an enormous weight of hope may hang by the slenderest thread, when that thread is attached to a mine!

"But there's other advice I should like to give," George evaded. "Miss Goldie, I feel a deep interest in you. I should like to have something to do in shaping your affairs to advantage."

"Come to see me," said Goldie impulsively.

Having brought George thus far along the road she had previously mapped out for him, Goldie left the office. She had made Mulkey her friend by embittering him against Mrs. Eden,-for the best way known to her of winning friendship was to inflame a person against somebody else,—and she had forced George Nicodemus to peep at her from behind his mask. The day was, thus far, well spent; and it was with a cheerful heart that she turned in the direction of Main Street.

She passed the bank with drooping lids and demure lips, seeing nothing but a small space of the walk in front of her; however, she was not greatly startled when a voice in her ear told her that Peter had fallen into line.

"I'm very glad you happened along, Miss Goldie,” said Peter nervously; "I have something to tell you. The fact is-we-now, Miss Goldie, don't be offended,