The odor of unwashed men in front of him kept him on the fringes of the crowd. Matt dropped his valises into the dust, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited to see what would happen next. The auctioneer began to speak again.

“Now, Lafe here wants to auction off his claim, but there’s a condition that goes along of it.”

A murmur rose from the men, but died away when the auctioneer reached down and pulled a young girl dressed in filthy overalls forward to stand next to him. Matt strained to see around the bulky shoulders of a man who had stepped in front of him. Who on earth was that raggedy looking person?

“Now, this here is the condition.” The heavy man spoke as though in answer to Matt’s inner thoughts. “Some of you may know Dee here, Lafe’s sister. Well, Dee owns half interest in the claim, and she don’t want to move on. So anybody that wants this here claim’s got to share half interest with her. ‘Course she’ll be working the claim, as always...”

Not much of an endorsement, Matt thought, judging from his bony frame. This must be the footloose brother Lafe. Not much of a specimen of humanity with his prominent Adam’s apple bouncing up and down in his throat, and his greasy brown hair flopping over his forehead. He looked a perfect match for the filthy ragamuffin standing on the platform. Her hair, though black as a moonless night, hung in dull, greasy strands around a dirt-smudged face.