"Three dollars a day while I was out on it. Four hundred dollars when I'd staked the claim, if the specimens a.s.sayed right."

"But how could he tell whether you would do the square thing by him?"

Turner grinned.

"It wouldn't be safe to do anything else. Supposing I'd gone round, looking for another buyer, he'd have had me doped or sandbagged before I'd made the sale. You can't fool Mappin. You have to put your job through when you deal with him."

"It seems to me that you haven't made a success of this particular business," Andrew remarked.

"I certainly haven't," the other admitted with a rueful air. "Your partner has me fixed--he's a smart man. There'll be no three dollars a day for mine when I go home."

"You have struck bad luck," said Andrew with a smile. "I'm not sure you don't deserve it, but that's another matter. And now give me the blankets: we'll take the things along."

They went on, and when they reached the next wild stream where tracking was necessary Andrew got into the water. Turner gave him a grateful glance, but he afterward did his share of the heaviest work, and when they made camp in the evening he soon went to sleep. When the firelight, leaping up, fell on his shadowy form, Carnally chuckled.

"A handy man; he's going to save us a lot of trouble, and we got him cheap."

"He's a bit of a rogue, and claim-jumping isn't a creditable profession," Andrew replied. "Still, I don't think we ought to take too much advantage of the fellow's necessity. After all, he's only a tool. It's his employer who's really responsible."

"Just so," Graham agreed. "The pity is that he should find men willing to do his dirty work on very moderate pay; but there's no lack of them. There are men you can only dynamite out of the mire, because if you pull them out by gentler means they crawl straight back again.

It's unfortunate, because you meet some with a few likable qualities; I think our new packer is one of these."

"Their trouble generally begins when they get into the clutches of such a hog as we're up against," Carnally said. "He knows how to handle them and it needs some grit to break away from him. We'll get Turner to tell us some of his claim-jumping experiences to-morrow night. You'll find them interesting."

Supper was finished and they were sitting in camp after a hard day's toil when Carnally cleverly drew the packer out. He was not unwilling and, warming to his subject, recounted incidents that filled Andrew with surprise and disgust. Sitting in the shadow with his eyes fixed on the ragged adventurer, he heard how small sawmill owners had been jockeyed out of the timber leases they were not rich enough to defend; how dams and flumes had been tampered with until their hara.s.sed proprietor sold out his water rights; and the means by which impecunious owners of minerals had been robbed of their claims. Turner occasionally chuckled over the memory of some roguish trick, but, for the most part, his manner was impressively matter-of-fact. Andrew did not think he was drawing much upon his imagination; but it seemed incredible that such things should be done without the men who plotted them and reaped the benefit incurring general odium. After Turner had strolled away, he said something of the kind to Graham.

"The point is," Graham explained, "the low-down rascals who are used as tools daren't talk where they'll be heard, and n.o.body attaches much importance to what is said in third-rate saloons. Respectable people don't ask too many questions when they see a prospect of dividends; there may be something not quite straight, but so long as it's well hidden, they don't want to know. Still, I'll say this: if you put the ugly facts square before them, they'll quite often act, even if they have to make some sacrifice to set matters right."

"Yes," a.s.sented Andrew; "I believe that's true. There's a reason why I find it encouraging."

"Now we'll talk of something else," Carnally interposed. "It's my opinion that we ought to leave the water soon, perhaps to-morrow, and push straight across the last height of land for the lode. We want to keep well ahead of the Mappin boys."

They discussed it until they went to sleep, and the next day they carried the canoe some distance back from the river and carefully hid her in the brush. Farther on they cached part of their stores, and then plunged into a desolate, stony waste. Their journey across it proved uneventful, and at length they came down into the hollow where the lode lay. As it was noon, they ate a meal before anything was said; and then Carnally gave Turner a fishing-line with a trolling bait on it.

"You go back to the last creek we crossed and catch some trout," he ordered. "Stay there until supper, whether you get any or not."

Turner winked.

"If I catch one with this outfit, it will be a mighty silly trout; the thing's made for spinning behind a canoe on a lake. Don't you want help with your prospecting? I know something about minerals."

"So do we," Carnally replied. "I'd rather hear that you were fond of fishing, because you're going to get a good deal of it. Every day we're here you'll light out after breakfast and not come back till dark. If we see you from the camp, we'll fire you on the spot."

"I understand," said Turner. "Guess I'll stay out. I've no use for taking the trail without any grub."

He left them and Carnally turned to Graham.

"We must get our prospecting done before the Mappin gang arrives, and the sooner we start the better. We'll begin where we fired the shot last time, and follow up the vein."

It proved to be fairly well defined when they set to work with the light tools they had brought, and their task was rendered easier because the small but rapid creek had exposed the strata in scouring out its channel. In some places they picked a hole, in others they fired a charge of giant-powder, carefully separating the specimens they obtained; and when evening came they sat in camp, examining several heaps of stones.

"They're promising," said Graham. "The weight is a good rough test, and though it doesn't tell us much about the proportion of lead to silver, I can find out something about that to-morrow. Jake, you might pound this handful of stuff as fine as you can."

He opened a small box which he had taken great care of during the journey, and Andrew was surprised to see it contained a delicate balance and several phials.

"I didn't know you were an a.s.sayer," he said.

"I'm not," Graham answered, smiling. "But you must remember that for twenty years I've clung to the idea that I might find the lode, and perhaps it isn't astonishing that I should try to learn something about minerals and chemistry. In fact, it's been my only recreation; but I didn't bring this outfit last trip because the frost would have prevented my making much use of it."

There was something that touched Andrew in the thought of the sawmill clerk, patiently discharging his monotonous duties year after year and preparing himself for the search which was the great object of his life, though he knew he might never be able to make it. It was, however, obvious that he had studied to some purpose, because he had shown skill in tracing the vein, and Andrew had noticed that Carnally, who knew a good deal about minerals, deferred to him.

"I was lucky in getting hold of you and Jake," he said.

Soon afterward Turner appeared with one trout, which he confessed he had caught with his hands, and Graham carefully put away the box and specimens.

They began again at sunrise and worked with determined activity.

Before noon it grew very hot; there was no wind in the sheltered basin, and the smell of the scattered spruces filled the listless air.

By degrees the men stripped off most of their clothing, and the strong sun burned Andrew's bare arms and neck as he swung the pick. They stopped only a few minutes for dinner, and continued with no slackening of exertion until the shadows of the rocks covered the hollow. Then Andrew, throwing down his tools, glanced with a curious satisfaction at the pile of stones which marked the course of the vein. He had accomplished something that day; the result of his toil could be seen.

"You look pleased," Carnally commented.

"I feel so," declared Andrew. "We haven't improved the appearance of the place from an artistic point of view; but I don't know when I felt so content with what I've done. I used to feel proud when I'd helped to fill the game cart at home; but this is different. Somehow it's more bracing."

"I understand; though I'm not much of a sport and when I work it isn't for fun."

Andrew slept as soon as he lay down on his bed of spruce twigs, and awakened, fresh and sanguine, ready for another day's determined toil.

There was something strangely exhilarating in the resin-scented air; Andrew felt vigorous and cheerful. Graham had expressed his satisfaction with the rough tests he had made, and the more they exposed the reef the better the ore looked. It would undoubtedly pay for working and might yield a handsome profit, and Andrew felt that the first half of the battle had been won. The other half would no doubt entail some stubborn fighting, but he looked forward to it with new courage. He had proved his ability and gained confidence in himself; it was no longer a forlorn hope he was leading. He would meet his cunning antagonist on fairly equal terms.

Apart from all this, he found a keen pleasure in his work. It was good to get up in the bracing cold of dawn and smell the aromatic wood smoke as he renewed the fire. He had never enjoyed his breakfast as he did in the desolate North; there was satisfaction in using the drill with a dexterity he had painfully acquired. He could bring down the hammer squarely upon the head of the tool, and swing the pick all day with delight in the strength of his muscles instead of exhaustion. It was gratifying to find that he had chosen the right line of cleavage in the stone when the great fragments leaped up through the vapor of the exploding charge. Judgment as well as strength was needed in these things--all were worth doing and made for health and tranquillity of mind.

Turner seemed to recognize that Carnally was not to be trifled with.

He gave them no trouble, remaining away until the day's work was done.

Then as they lounged about the fire in the sharp cold of the evening, he told stories, amusing and grim, and Andrew listened, divided between admiration of the man's ingenuity and daring, and disgust at his frank rascality.

When the claims had been carefully staked and the last evening came, Andrew was sensible of a keen regret. He had been happy in the wilderness, and it was hardly probable that he would use the pick and drill again. Henceforward his duty would lie in a different sphere; it was the last time he would lie down in soil-stained clothes, healthily tired after a day of bodily labor. The air was wonderfully clear; scattered spruces and towering rocks stood out with sharp distinctness against a glow of transcendental green. The smoke of the fire rose straight up; the splash of the creek came musically out of the shadow.

"I think we're all ready to start south at sunrise," Graham said presently, and looked at Turner. "Can you guess why your partners haven't turned up?"

"No," answered the man. "I'll allow that I've been expecting them the last day or two. Perhaps they couldn't strike your trail, and there's a chance that when they made the cache, starving, they found there wouldn't be grub enough to take them up and down."

"It's possible," said Andrew, and looked at the others. "Though I think we've staked off the best of the vein, it seems a pity that you couldn't secure some of the rest."

"It can't well be done," Carnally explained. "A man can locate only one claim on the same lode; but if the ore pans out as good as it looks, I'll be content with the terms you promised me."

"I'm the one who's got left," Turner broke in. "I've packed your truck and done your hardest work, and don't get five cents for it. It wouldn't rob you if you let me stake a claim."

"The difficulty is that you'd have to sell it to Mappin," Andrew reminded him.

"That's so," Turner admitted. "If I tried to go back on that man, it would be the worse for me. The way I'm fixed is mighty rough."