"My body's tired," Andrew admitted. "One can get over that. The real difficulty is that my mind feels sick."

"Is there no connection between the two?" Geraldine smiled at him.

"You make me think it's the first time you have had any serious difficulties."

"That's true. It looks as if there were some benefit in being dull.

You're saved a good deal of trouble if you don't notice things."

"I didn't mean that," Geraldine objected. "You're not really dull, you know."

"Then I'm something like it. But you don't think I've been foolish in starting on this campaign?"

"No!" said Geraldine promptly. "I think you are doing what is fine!

You must go on; I want you to win. The difficulties won't look so serious if you attack them one by one, and it must be worth something to have the right on your side. There is so much injustice everywhere and few people seem to mind. No doubt it's dangerous to interfere, but it's encouraging to find a man here and there who is not afraid."

She looked up at a sound and saw her father standing in the doorway.

"One here and there?" smiled Frobisher. "You're not exacting. In France, they once asked for a hundred men who knew how to die, and found them in one southern town."

Geraldine's color was higher than usual, but she laughed.

"I suppose I am a bit of a sentimentalist; but you're too cynical. I don't see why you should be proud of your detached and critical att.i.tude. You look on as if the sight of people struggling amused you."

"I don't think I really am proud of it, but perhaps there's something to be said for the intelligent spectator who knows his limitations and is content with trying to see fair play. However, I came to take Allinson away for a smoke. If I leave him to you, you'll be sending him off on some new chivalrous adventure."

Seeing that his host was waiting for him, Andrew rose, but as he reached the door Geraldine looked at him with a smile.

"What I said was rather crude, but I meant it."

"She generally does mean things; it's a habit that has its drawbacks,"

Frobisher said, as he led Andrew to his smoking-room, where he gave him a cigar and pointed to an easy-chair.

"What are you going to do about Mappin?" the American asked bluntly.

"Nothing. As he has only to deny what I told him to clear himself, there's no means of punishing him. I can't see any use in making a fuss that can have no result. It would simply show I was the weaker party."

"You're wise," Frobisher agreed. Then his eyes twinkled. "Carnally, however, seems to have seen a way out of the difficulty. You haven't heard what happened at the settlement?"

"No; I hired a sleigh and went for a drive. After that I slept until I came here. I tried to keep out of people's way."

"You missed a dramatic scene at the store. I'm told Carnally threw Mappin downstairs and out into the snow."

Andrew shook his head dubiously.

"It's a pity, but I might have been prepared for something of the kind. I can hardly grudge him any satisfaction he derived from it."

"It was a good stroke; Mappin will find it damaging."

"But I understood he was a friend of yours," Andrew said with some awkwardness.

"He came to my house. I put up with him, which I think describes it best, though I fail to see much reason for doing so any longer. But what are you going to do about the lode?"

"Go back and investigate it thoroughly. We'll wait until the spring."

"Then you mean to proceed with your scheme? I see trouble, but I mustn't discourage you. Now I guess the situation warrants some candor. Has it struck you that Mappin is working hand in hand with your brother-in-law?"

"I'm afraid it's true." Andrew's face was grave. "You can see how it complicates things."

"But you mean to go on?"

"I must," said Andrew simply.

Frobisher leaned forward and touched his arm.

"You have grit, Allinson. It will be a tough fight, but I feel that you'll make good."

He changed the subject abruptly, and they talked of other matters until they went back to the drawing-room. Some time afterward there was a knock at the door, and Geraldine, opening it, held out a telegram to Andrew.

"It's from the a.s.sayer; I left word at the settlement for the message to be sent on," he explained. "You will excuse my opening it?"

"Of course," said Geraldine. "May it bring you good news!"

Andrew tore open the envelope, and there was an exultant tone in his voice as he read out:

"_Specimens unpromising._"

Frobisher and Geraldine looked puzzled.

"But you seem satisfied," the girl said.

"I am. I asked the man to let me have his general opinion as soon as he could; he's to send a regular a.n.a.lysis later. He has been quick, but perhaps he has some rough preliminary test."

"But he tells you they're unpromising!"

"I'm beginning to think Mr. Allinson is a bit of a genius," Frobisher observed. "No doubt he'll explain his mysterious proceedings."

"I gave the man a three-word code, reversing the meaning, and his answer puts the quality of the ore, so to speak, in the comparative degree. It shows that we have struck the edge of the lode, and careful prospecting should give us better results."

He broke off, standing still, the message in his hand and a look of marked relief in his face, and Frobisher turned to his daughter.

"It was a maxim of Napoleon's that one should use every means of misleading the enemy, and Mr. Allinson seems to know that telegrams are handled rather casually in these small places. A mineral claim doesn't belong to its discoverer until it's duly staked off and recorded; and if all the formalities are not complied with it can be jumped."

He was called away a few minutes later, and Andrew took his place by the hearth with Geraldine sitting opposite him.

"I'm very glad you got such good news," she said, with a curious softness in her voice.

"Thank you. It was you who brought it to me; but that wasn't all you did. I came here dejected, and now I'm cheerful again."

"But that isn't surprising, after the message."