A light, varying vein had been followed at an incline, and Casey, working alone, was obliged to wheel every pound of dirt up a rather steep grade to the dump outside.

The rock was hard to work in, so that it took him a full half a day to put in four shots, and then he would be likely to find that they had "bootlegged." The tunnel also faced the south, from where the wind nearly always blew, so that the gas and smoke from his shots would hang in there sometimes for a full twenty-four hours, making it impossible for him to work.
The little woman seemed slightly surprised when Casey told her, at the end of the first week, to knock off three days on account of gas.

She and the little girl came to his camp next day and brought Casey a loaf of light bread and interrupted him in the act of shaving.

The little woman looked at the two burros and at the mule, measured the camp outfit with her keen gray eyes, looked at Casey who had nicked his chin, and became thoughtful.
After that she stopped calling him Mr.Ryan and addressed him as Casey Ryan instead, with a little teasing inflection in her voice.

Once Casey happened to mention Lund, and when he saw her look of surprise he explained that he drove a stage out of Lund, for awhile.
"Oh! So you _are_ that Casey Ryan!" she said.