"A bargain. I'll make you a mess of candy that'll pop your eyes out if you will give me a square meal,--something to eat, you know, and plenty of it. I'm hungry as the deuce, and candy ain't very filling. Is it a go?"

Susie looked at her crestfallen companions, and they looked at her.

"There were no potatoes left from dinner," began Irene.

"But there's any number of cans of stuff in the pantry," said Inez hastily.

"Salmon and sardines and veal loaf and corned beef and vegetables,"

added Susie hopefully, yet fearful lest the menu should not prove sufficiently tempting to the queer, unexpected, unknown visitor. "And Tabitha cut the cake for dinner."

"Besides cookies and crackers and bread," murmured Irene, seeing reproof in her sisters' eyes, and feeling that she had been inhospitable to their hungry guest.

"Good!" promptly answered the man. "I reckon we'll make out. Just open a tin of salmon, make a pot of strong coffee, and bring on your bread and cake and sauce--lots of it, now, for I haven't had a bite to eat since last night. Lost my money, you know, and it hurts a decent fellow's pride to beg."

The trio nodded sympathetically, and hurried to do his bidding, while he rapidly measured out fresh supplies of sugar and syrup, and briskly began stirring the ma.s.s over the fire, talking all the while. "I just happened to be pa.s.sing when I smelled your stuff burning, and thinks I, now there's trouble in there. Just then you all commenced screaming, and I was sure the house was a-fire, so I rushed in to help. Good gracious, but I was scared for a minute when I see the flames jumping so high. You might have had an explosion any minute."

"Yes," gravely agreed the girls, the look of terror returning to their eyes.

"If it hadn't been for you, I reckon the house would have burned down, and it's the only one we've got," said Irene.

He nodded. "I understand, and so I thought you wouldn't begrudge me a bite to eat, after I had put out the fire and cleaned up the clutter so Tabitha wouldn't know that you had been in mischief."

"Course we're glad to give you something to eat," Inez again hastily interrupted. "'Specially when you are making us some more candy. Are you ready for your--lunch--now?"

"In a jiffy. Just grease a pan for this dope and I'll pour it out to cool. Bet it beats yours all hollow. There! Set it in the window--so! Now, I'll sample your larder. Looks fine and smells bully. Which store is best here in town?"

"Brinkley's," promptly answered the trio, with longing eyes fixed upon the golden flood of syrup cooling in the window.

"Though Dawley's is bigger," added Irene.

"Do they make much money?"

"They ought to. Prices are high enough," answered Susie with a comically grown-up air.

"Most of the miners trade at Dawley's, 'cause he don't hurry 'em so about paying," said Inez naively. "But the Carsons and Catts and Dr.

Hayes, and those folks buy at Brinkley's, 'cause his stuff is nicer."

"We _did_ trade there," began Irene, but Susie interrupted, "Most of our stuff comes from Los Angeles now. It's cheaper to trade that way, and anyhow, papa knows the man real well, and now that he's sick in the hospital, he doesn't have to worry about pay day all the time, for this man will wait till he is well enough to work again."

"When is pay day?" casually inquired the man. "I mean how often does it come?"

"Once a month--the fifteenth."

The stranger's eyes glittered with satisfaction, and he muttered, "The fifteenth,--that's to-morrow."

"What did you say?" asked Susie.

"I was just thinking," he replied, glancing uneasily from one bright face to the other to see if any of the children had caught his indiscreet remark. "By the way, who lives in that little, unpainted house on the edge of town?" He pointed vaguely over his shoulder, and the sisters looked at each other in bewilderment.

"The pest house?" suggested Irene.

"The Ramsey place?" said Inez questioningly.

"The haunted house?" ventured Susie. "You see, there are so many unpainted houses on the edge of town."

"The haunted house!" laughed the stranger incredulously. "Whoever heard tell of a haunted house in a mining camp!"

"Silver Bow has one," stoutly a.s.serted the twins.

"Where? Which one? I confess I am curious."

"It's the last one on the East End Lode," replied Susie with dignity, feeling that the reputation of her town was at stake.

"The queer old shack beyond Tabitha's," added Inez.

"There are only three houses in that hollow," explained Irene. "The Carson's big house, the Catt's littler one, and this haunted house."

"What haunts it?" jeered the man, pushing back from the table and glancing sharply down the trail toward town.

"A--a ghost," the twins half whispered.

"A man killed himself there once," said Susie.

"Or was murdered," shuddered Inez.

"Or else he just died," put in practical-minded Irene. "Anyway, they found him there dead."

"And sometimes now folks hear queer things there."

"And see lights."

"Tabitha never has," Irene declared. "And she lives nearest it."

"Well, 't any rate, it's haunted and no one ever goes there now, not even Tabitha, who ain't afraid of a _thing_."

The stranger rose slowly to his feet, yawned as if bored by their chatter, picked up his hat, and started for the door; then paused, and casually surveying the pan of taffy on the window sill, remarked, "Believe if I was you, I'd eat that all up before the rest of the folks get back. There's just about enough for three, and I've a notion that Miss Tabitha will think you didn't keep your promise very well if she ever finds out how near you came to setting the house a-fire. She'll never dare trust you again. It might be well not to mention that I dropped in, either. Tramps aren't often welcome visitors, even in a mining camp, you know. But I appreciate your dinner, and thank you kindly. Good-day, ladies."

"Good-day," they echoed mechanically, and with puzzled eyes watched him disappear in the direction of the railroad station on the flats. Then they faced each other.

"Do you s'pose we better--" began Susie slowly.

"Not tell?" ventured Inez.

"And eat all the candy ourselves?" added Irene.

There was a moment's pause while three active brains worked furiously.

Then Susie sighed, "I b'lieve he's right. Tabitha would never trust us again. We better keep still about the whole thing."