Dickinson laughed, and pulled out an old wallet, rattled the coins which it contained, and held up to view a shot-bag, apparently containing a large quantity of gold dust.
"All from a quiet game under a clump of myrtle bushes," he said, with another laugh.
"But that hasn't kept you all this time."
"No; I was over to Sancher's ranche. I knew there was nothing going on here, and we are apt to get cross when it is stupid--eh, Mrs. Yates?"
"Did you speak?" she asked, as if suddenly aroused by his voice.
"I say Phil and I are not two angels for temper in dull times; do you think so?"
"Oh, yes," she answered, good-naturedly enough; "fallen angels, you know, twice degraded."
The men laughed heartily, and Dickinson gave her a glance of honest admiration; she was evidently a woman for whom he felt sincere respect--the sentiment which a dull rogue has for a clear-headed, acute person whom he is willing to acknowledge as his superior.
"Ah, it's of no use to clash tongues with you," he said. "I learned that a great while ago."
Sybil rose from her seat, and walked slowly down the veranda toward the door, paused an instant, flung back some mocking speech in answer to his words and Philip's laugh, and passed into the house.
"That's a wonderful woman!" exclaimed Dickinson, when she had disappeared through the doorway. "I tell you what, Phil, there ain't three men in California with a head-piece equal to that on her handsome shoulders."
"She's well enough," replied Yates, carelessly; "it would be odd if she hadn't learned a few things since the time she married me, and took to life."
"You be blessed!" retorted Tom. "Her head is a deuced sight longer and clearer than yours. I tell you, a keen woman like that is more than a match for any man."
"She had better not try any thing of that sort with me!" exclaimed Yates, sullenly.
"Nonsense; she doesn't want to! I never saw a woman more devoted to a fellow, or so ready to help him along in every way. I tell you, I'm not very fond of chains or ministers, but I'd get married in a legal way to-morrow if I could find a female like her to yoke myself to."
"Wait till she's my widow, Tom," Yates replied, with a laugh. "Sybil's well enough, but she'd play the deuce, like any woman, if she dared. She knows better than to put on any airs with me. If another sort of man owned her, he'd see stars!"