goin' to go you carn't stop it, can yer? And you can honly go once, so you might has well go smilin'.
"W'ot's the huse of worryin'.
It never was worf w'ile;
So, pack hall yer trubbles in yer hold kit bag
Hand smile, smile, smile.
"The gal loses," he said, presently. "Mebbe the damned gold hain't there hanyw'y. And she never knew hanything habout the stuff, hany'ow. Wow! What's that?"
A sudden, grinding crash was followed by a burst of flame and sparks shooting far up above the cave, live embers falling amid a chorus of yells that tokened surprise and pain. Larkin wriggled over the wall close to the side of the cave and came gliding back to report. A ledge of the limestone had cracked in the intense heat and fallen on the fire, scattering much of it and alarming, if not injuring, some of the Apaches. The half-burned boughs were tossed and spread out for some distance, breaking up the shadows and showing little groups of Indians springing up from where they had been watching the cave, hurrying to and fro in excitement. Harvey came out from Healy to learn what had happened.
"May hev' fixed a few of 'em," he said. "Hope so. But it won't do us much good. They'll keep thet fire goin' and us penned up, doggone 'em. They know we're short on grub, for one thing. Got nothin' to fix up Healy with. Thet wound 'll be in bad shape
