Cass averted his face.
"Do you mean to say that every miner doesn't know that it's lucky to dig wherever human blood has been spilt ?" Cass felt a return of his superstition, but he did not look up.

"I never heard it before," he said, severely.
"And you call yourself a California miner ?" "I do." It was impossible for Miss Porter to misunderstand his curt speech and unsocial manner.

She stared at him and colored slightly.

Lifting her reins lightly, she said: "You certainly do not seem like most of the miners I have met." "Nor you like any girl from the East I ever met," he responded.
"What do you mean ?" she asked, checking her horse.
"What I say," he answered, doggedly.

Reasonable as this reply was, it immediately struck him that it was scarcely dignified or manly.