"You got turned down, I see" said "O1d Man" Fitzpatrick with composure.
"Think so?" Mr. McCaffrey laughed sarcastically. "Maybe I did ha, ha! Say," indignantly, "don't you old Grannies know me well enough to know I wouldn't vi'late no lady's confidence—high or low? But," relenting a little, "I don't mind goin' so fur as to say she ain't canvassin'."
"Shoo, now"—"Old Man" Fitzpatrick's voice was full of mock disappointment—"I was aimin' to buy four bits' worth of her complexion perperation what would leave my skin just like a baby's."
By mid-day Nan had become one of the most fascinating mysteries which it had ever devolved upon the sidewalk Solons to solve.
It was Saturday and pay-day in the adjoining mining camps, so Nan spent nearly the entire morning on the bench watching the picturesque stream of life flowing through the main street of the town.
Mexicans from the placers jogged in on their half-starved horses; cowboys from distant ranges came whooping in with a clatter of hoofs and a whirl of dust; footsore pros-
