Sudden Goldseeker

"Then we'll have to leave you behind," her brother laughed. "In the Black Hills gold comes first." When the journey was resumed, Sudden found that his companion had lost her high spirits. She rode listlessly, head drooping, for some distance. On several occasions he had to warnher of spots requiring care and once he grabbed her bridle just in time to save her a nasty tumble.

The hours crept by, spent in laborious riding, mostly at a walking pace. Only at infrequent intervals, when a level space offered, could they shake a little life into the heels of their mounts. Tedium was beginning to take hold of them all when at length their guide paused and waited for Snowy to catch up. "Guess this is it. Do yu recognize her?" he asked.

"Shore, there's the of shack," was the reply. "Hey, Paul, we've made it." The men whooped as they hustled their horses and trotted into the ravine. Husky, dismounting, stood studying the place. When Snowy inquired what he thought of it, his answer was blunt enough:

"Never seed an onlikelier prospect."

"Any experienced digger'll tell you them's often the richest," the old man snapped.

Preparations were begun for pitching camp. The ladies inspected the shack and promptly elected to use the tent which had been brought for them, as being less suggestive of spiders, scorpions, and other horrors. The "bar-scourin's," however, decided it was good enough for them. Some hundred yards along the ravine was a tiny grass plateau, shaded by birch and cottonwoods, and here the tent was erected and a rough lean-to shelter put together for Lesurge and Snowy. The puncher, for reasons of his own, announced that he preferred to sleep in the open; his blanket and saddle were all he needed. Lesurge was superintending these arrangements when Sudden strolled up.

"It won't be dark yet awhile," he said. "I'm goin' to see if I can scare up a deer--fresh meat'll be an improvement on sow-belly. Like to come along, Ducane?"

"Shore would--I ain't no use here," came the prompt reply. "That's a good idea, Green; we'll make you hunter to the party," Lesurge laughed.

The two men got their mounts and loped off. When they were a safe distance away, Snowy chuckled and said: "Yo're a clever cuss, Jim. I was wonderin' what excuse we could make to git away times. How fur do you make it? I never was no good at measurin'."

"Not much more'n a couple o' miles in a straight line but yu gotta twist about some. See the belt o' firs over there with a point o' rock peepin' above it? That's the Rock in' Stone."

"Burn my whiskers if it ain't. I never looked at her from here." They were threading a thicket when Sudden held up a warning hand, grabbed his rifle, and disappeared on foot into the bushes. Ten minutes later Snowy heard a report, and then the puncher reappeared, carrying the carcase of a young buck, which he proceeded to secure to his saddle.

"There's a pool, an' by the tracks it's a regular drinkin' place," he said. "Worth rememberin'." They hurried on and presently, penetrating the circle of trees, reached the rampart of rock. Tying their mounts, they slipped through the concealed opening. At the other end of the hollow, five men were busily at work. Sudden uttered a low Cowboy call and one of the stooping figures straightened up, let out an answering whoop, and came charging towards them.

"Jim?" he cried. "Yu got here then?"

"No, I'm still on the way," Sudden said ironically.

Snowy was already among the workers. "How's she pannin' out?" he asked excitedly.

It was Rogers who replied. "Mister Ducane, she's lousy with gold; I never see the like of it."

"Good," the little man said, "but cut out the `mister'--we're all pardners here." Rogers nodded. "We ain't losin' no time--sca'cely stoppin' to feed; Jim said we might be disturbed," he went on, and as Sudden came up, "I'm buryin' the stuff under the big tree yu picked out."

"What's that?" Snowy wanted to know.

"I told him to cache the dust in the brush; no sense in losin' that as well as the claim if we get druv out," the puncher explained. "I'll show yu the spot."

"Jim, I'm liftin' my lid to you," Snowy said warmly. "You got savvy. Well, Mister Jacob, what d'you think of her?"

"It's the most remarkable alluvial deposit I ever heard of," was the reply.

"You figure it's just a pocket?"

"Certainly. Under the sand and gravel, there is a thin layer of almost pure gold on the bed-rock. Somewhere up there"-- he pointed to the great cliff with its swinging stone--"is the mother-lode, but you'd need dynamite and a crushing plant to get at it."

"Guess yo're right," the prospector agreed. "Well, cleanin' this hole out will give us enough to do--an' to spend, but ..." He gazed regretfully at the mountain, his mind on the hidden wealth it contained.

Mason accompanied them to the entrance. "Get out all yucan, Gerry," Sudden told him. "It won't take Paul's party long to find they're workin' a dead hoss an' then somethin's liable to break loose."

"How's--everybody?" the boy asked.

"She's lookin' fine," Sudden grinned. "Rode all the way with dear Paul, an' seemed to be enjoyin' herself." He waited while Gerry expressed a few fervent wishes respecting dear Paul, and added, "I'm beginnin' to doubt if yu like the fella."

"Mixin' so much with Miss Lesurge is shorely sharpenin' yore wits," the boy came back, and asked how many men Paul had brought.

"Husky?" Gerry said, when he had heard the names. "Ain't he the joker who wanted to string yu up?"

"Yeah, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's sorta white."

"On'y seven, countin' Paul hisself; that ain't so many," Gerry reflected aloud.

"He isn't expectin' opposition, an' would reckon on me an' Snowy--as yet," Sudden argued. "There's six of 'em anyway who'd admire to bump me off. I'd feel like Daniel in the lions den on'y they's just coyotes." He closed with a word of comfort: "Keep a-smilin'; she looked real disappointed when yu didn't show up. Adios."

CHAPTER XX

The next morning brought feverish activity to the camp in the ravine, and the washing of the first pan of dirt was witnessed by the whole company. When Snowy--who himself officiated --triumphantly pointed to the resulting pinch of yellow particles, a chorus of satisfaction greeted him, and no further spur was needed. Blinded by the golden gleam, the men snatched up tools and began to dig with eager energy. But as the day waned so did the enthusiasm. Gold was found in trifling amounts only. Husky, the most experienced miner, save Snowy, put the matter plainly:

"We're findin' plenty `colour' an' that's all." Lesurge took the disappointment badly. "You appear to brought us on a fool's errand, Phil," he said irritably, as they sat over the evening meal.

"If you knowed as much as I do 'bout gold-minin'--which you never will--you'd talk different," Snowy returned calmly.

"The stuff is there, you've seen it, but we ain't just struck when. it's thickest. Did you expect to put a spade in an' fetch it out loaded with nuggets? That on'y happens in the story-books-an' dreams. Mebbe we'll have better luck to-morrow."

"I hope so," Paul replied. "Where's Green--and Lora?"

"Jim's gone for meat, an' Miss Lesurge elected to go along."

"She said she was tired of doing nothing," Mary explained.

"You don't feel like that?"

"No, I think it is all very interesting and exciting." He stooped over her and whispered, "I want you always to be contented when we're together, Mary." The warmth in his tone stirred her, brought the blood to her cheeks, but she had a sense of something lacking and could not say the words she knew he was hoping to hear. But her smile satisfied him.

Sudden had not been pleased to have company--he would not be able to pay the Rocking Stone a visit, but his objection that there might he danger had been met with a merry laugh.

"We've faced it all together before," Lora reminded.

"Yeah, an' I'd have thought once would 'a' been a-plenty," he replied.

"You don't know how fascinating you are, Jim," she mocked.

"I reckon yore brother is some disappointed," he said.

"I didn't come to discuss Paul; I want to talk about you." He looked at her quizzically: "Well, I can't stop yu, but I don't have to listen."

"That is mean of you," she cried. "If I knew the way back..."

"I'll show yu," he offered instantly.

To his surprise, she laughed. "No, you are too anxious to get rid of me, my friend. Why?"

"I've work to do." A little later he pulled up. "Wait here," he told her, "I won't be far off. No, yu needn't to hold Nigger--he'll stay put." He dropped the reins to the ground, took his rifle, and slipped noiselessly into the brush. She heard the shot, and soon he was back, carrying his spoil. The woman looked at the limp, sleek body of the deer and shivered. Such a little time ago it had been full of life, and now ... With an uncanny instinct he sometimes showed, he read her thought.

"I warned yu not to come," he said.

She did not speak until they were nearly back at the camp, and then: "Jim, do you ever think of--Logan?"

"On'y when thoughtless folk remind me," he said harshly.

"I killed a man once," she went on in a low voice. "I suppose you heard? I didn't intend to; he was--horrible to me. I meant to frighten him, but--he died."

"Forget it," the cowboy said. "Yu had a right to protect yoreself, an' by all accounts, the fella got what he deserved."

"Death, when one thinks seriously of it, seems terrible," she mused.

"Shucks, it's just goin' to sleep an' not wakin' up, that's all," he said lightly.

She shook her head. "I'm afraid," she confessed.

"What of?" Sudden asked.

"I don't know--which is the worst kind of fear," she said, and, with an effort at a smile, as the camp-fires came in view, "I've been a doleful Dinah this evening, Jim. I'll be all right in the morning." She walked listlessly to the tent. The puncher unsaddled and turned loose the horses, hung the meat on a branch out of reach of four-footed prowlers, and went down to the shack in search of supper. He found an air of savage dejection, and soon realized that in the bitter condemnation of Snowy, he himself was included.

"Allus knowed he was a romancer," Rodd remarked. "Hell if that of geezer opened his mouth much more he'd be liable to swatter hisself."

"Yeah, you can't tell him nothin' 'bout gold, an' he fetches us out here on this shadder-huntin' play," Lem supplemented.

"Anybody might think yu'd paid him for the chance," Sudden said. "How much has any o' yu lost?"

"We're riskin' our ha'r an' wastin' time," Berg argued.

"Like the rest of us," Sudden pointed out. "Did yu expect to find the dust packed up in sealed boxes ready for yu?" He was watching Fagan as he spoke, and saw the sinister face darken. Husky--who did not understand the allusion--laughed and said, "Even Ducane didn't promise that. Arter all, it's a blow in the breakfast for him too, but we may hit on her yet--you never know 'bout claims." His optimism evoked only scowls and sneers. Sudden finished his meal, said good night to the big miner, and sought his blankets. He did not sleep at once. Lora's mood, so unlike her confident, cynical self, puzzled him. Was it another trick of an accomplished coquette or could there be real reason for fear? Possible she had recognised Hank. But her brother would protect her. Then came the amazing thought that Paul might be the cause of her apprehension, but he dismissed it as absurd.

The morrow brought no encouragement to the fortune hunters; the ravine was tested from end to end and the results were meagre indeed. Even Snowy had to admit that it was useless to continue work there. He appeared to be dazed by the disappointment, wandering from one point to another like a man who had lost something precious. Only Sudden caught and read the malicious gleam of joy which sometimes crept into his narrowed eyes.

"Damned if I can understand it," he said to Lesurge. "There's the shack I lived in "

"Ducane lived in," Paul reminded.

"O' course, I meant that," the other assented. "But here's the ravine, an' the marks when he tried her out."

"The directions Mary gave you indicated this place?"

"Shore they did. How else would I find it?" Paul turned away impatiently; it would be just like the doddering old idiot to have made a mistake. He went in search of the girl and found her sitting on a tree-stump, absorbing the view. Though the frown had vanished, his face was worn and worried; finding the mine meant everything to him. Nevertheless, he forced a smile to his lips as he answered her question.

"No better news. I'm beginning to fear that Ducane's memory has served him ill and that he has brought us to the wrong spot." Mary had known this as soon as they arrived, but the promise to her uncle had kept her silent. But surely now that they were away from Deadwood and she was to wed Paul, there was no more need for secrecy. Pity for him impelled her to speak; she did not see that he was watching her narrowly.

"I am afraid you are right, but Uncle seemed so sure," she replied. "There was mention of a kind of cup with cliff-walls, a rock peak which somehow threatened, and a hidden entrance. I think, from what I can remember, that we came the right way, and that it should be near here." Though he questioned her closely, she would tell him nothing more definite. "Possibly these particulars may stir your uncle's sluggish memory," he said, and cursed below his breath. at the thought that the old man could know no more than himself.

"I hope so," she replied. "It will break his heart to fail." On his way back to the camp he met Lora, and gave an order: "When that cowboy goes hunting to-night you stay here."

"And why?" she inquired, raising mutinous eyebrows.

"Because it is necessary," he snapped, "unless you wish to remain a pauper." She gave a weary gesture. "Oh, I'm tired of it," she cried. "I'm afraid you were right, Paul; he is too strong for me."

"Well, it doesn't matter now; I can handle Mister Green myself," he said harshly.

An hour after the puncher had departed on his foraging expedition, Rodd come rocketing into camp and drew Lesurge aside.

"Boss, we're bein' sold out," he said. "I follered Green, saw him git the meat, an' then, 'stead o' turnin' back, he goes on. An' he ain't just wanderin' neither, but makin' for a fixed point. Next, cuss the luck, I loses him."

"Blundering jackass," came the angry comment.

"Warn't my fault. We comes to an open stretch o' grass an' that black o' his leaves mine a-standin' still. I'll swear he never got a peep at me; it was just a smart dodge, in case."

"All right. When he returns, you know what to do." The spy had been correct--Sudden had no suspicion that he was being trailed, but he was taking no chances. At the Rocking Stone he found the work proceeding merrily and the gold was being got out with all speed.

"Somethin's bound to happen to-morrow," he told Gerry, as he was leaving. "The ravine's busted wide open an' there ain't enough dust to pay one o' the gang. Snowy's a born actor but Paul is gettin' suspicious."

"Mebbe he'll throw the hand in an' go back to Deadwood?"

"What the of man is hopin' for, I expect, but it won't be that easy. Keep a sharp look-out, an' don't light a fire--smoke can be seen a long ways off in the daylight."

"Now I'll tell one," Gerry said. "Yu had a gran'mother." Sudden stared at him. "What th'--?" he began.

"Don't deny it fella. Yore gran'mother could suck eggs, an' I'm bettin' yu taught her how."

"Awright, I take it back," the other Iaughed. "I keep forgettin' yo're near growed up." Everything appeared to be normal when he reached the ravine. He rode down to the shack, dismounted, and was in the act of handing the buck he had brought in to Berg when one of the men deftly removed his guns and two others grabbed his wrists. With a violent wrench he freed himself and drove a bullet-hard fist into the nearest face--that of Rodd. But Hank hung on, and when Fagan charged from behind, knocked the cowboy off his feet and knelt upon him, Sudden, windless and spreadeagled on the ground, was helpless. A few moments sufficed to secure his wrists, and he was permitted to stand up. Rodd also rose, feeling his neck anxiously. Finding it was not, as he had feared, dislocated, he stepped to the prisoner, fists clenched.

"You damned cow-thief," he snarled. "I'll--" A huge hand gripped his shoulder and dragged him back. "None o' that," Husky said gruffly. "Time to hit a fella's when f his han's is free--like mine." Bandy did not accept the invitation; he may have been familiar with the story of David and Goliath but apparently he had no desire to emulate it. He contented himself with a scowl.

"I'm obliged, Husky," Sudden said. "Mebbe yu can explain the meanin' o' this?"

"Lesurge wants to talk to yu--that's all I know."

"Goin' to be rude an' is playin' safe, huh? Well, let's get it over." He walked to where Paul, Snowy and the women were sitting, and the men followed. The prospector was looking uncomfortable.

"See here, Lesurge, what's the reason for yore scum jumpin' me?" the prisoner asked brusquely.

"My orders," Paul said curtly. "Where have you been?"

"Gettin' meat."

"And after?"

"Give the li'l horse a run--he's needin' exercise."

"That's a lie." The puncher's eyes narrowed. "Yu were certainly wise to tie me up," he said.

"I've dealt with desperadoes before."

"Yeah," Sudden drawled, with a sardonic glance at the repellent faces around him.

Lesurge turned and darted a finger at the old man.

"Where's the real one, the one in a cup with cliff-walls, an overhanging rock, and a concealed entrance?" he thundered.

"That's the description you got from Mary, and you bring me here." Snowy's face did not alter. "Don't 'member any such place," he mumbled vacantly.

"Yet you can remember this one," Paul sneered.

"Shore, there's the ol' shack--" An oath cut him short. "Damnation! I want the truth," Lesurge grated. "If I tie you to a tree and let my men use their quirts it may quicken your memory." Mary Ducane interposed. "Paul, you are speaking to my uncle. If he has forgotten He waved her to silence. "There are thlngs you do not know; he is plotting to rob you."

"Are yu accusin' Ducane of tryin' to steal his own property?" the puncher sarcastically questioned.

"He has no shadow of right to the mine," Paul said sternly. "He is not Philip Ducane, but a drunken old bum I picked up in Wayside." He turned to Mary. "Listen, my dear. When I heard your story, I searched the settlement and failed to find your uncle. It seemed probable that he had died, and I conceived the idea of saving you disappointment and putting you in possession of his wealth by providing a substitute. This old scamp seemed harmless and he agreed readily enough to the imposture. But for his impudent attempt to get all instead of the share I promised him, matters would have gone smoothly, and I should then have explained the whole affair. No doubt I was wrong to deceive you, but it was for your sake." The girl stood up, her face pale in the firelight. "I am ready to believe that," she said with quiet dignity, "but even if this man is not my uncle, I have grown to care for him as such and he must not be harmed." Though this unlooked-for attitude filled him with fury, there was a decision in her tone which warned Paul he must tread warily.

"Good for yu, Miss Ducane," Sudden said. "Thrashin' Snowy won't get yu no place, Lesurge; he can't tell what he don't know. I'm the jigger yu gotta make terms with."

"Terms, with you?" Lesurge flamed. "Put a pistol to his head and pull the trigger unless he tells." The threatened man laughed aloud. "Killin' the goose, huh? Well, go ahead, Hank; yu tried that bluff once before, didn't yu?" He saw Lora's start of surprise, and continued. "Yeah, the same of Hank, Miss Lesurge; the skunk who kept yu tied in the hills that time."

"I didn't know it was the same man, Lora," Paul excused, but the lie was obvious.

"The same Hank who borrowed my clothes an' rode a black hoss so that he could slit the throats o' lonely miners for their dust," the cold voice went on.

"Close yore trap, you," Hank growled, pressing the pistol-barrel against his ear. Someone else in the gathering muttered a deep curse; it was Husky.

"An' now, lemme tell yu somethin', Miss Ducane," Sudden went on. "If Snowy wanted the mine--an' he did--it was for yu." I am sure of it," she replied, with a glance of affection at the bowed figure by the fire.

"But Lesurge wanted it for himself. Why was he waitin' in Wayside? For the fella who came with yu, Fagan, his dawg, an' before speakin' to him, he gloms on to yu. Ain't it plain he knew about yu an' was makin' his plans even then? In Deadwood he tries to get Gerry Mason strung up, an' pays Logan to put me outa the way. Them plays don't pan out just right so he goes to work different, bribes me to rob the treasure coach, an' in case I need help, sends rats like Hank an' Lem to give a hand. They falls down on it--some of 'em so hard they never gets up again--an' Paul's last hope is yore gold-mine."

"I don't believe a word of it," Mary said indignantly.

"I didn't suppose yu would but yu will," Sudden said. "Yo're the sort to think the best as long as yu can."

"Thank you, Mary," Lesurge smiled. "I let him go on because I knew I could depend on you."

"If yo're gettin' tired holdin' that gun yu can put it away, Hank, it won't be needed," the prisoner said confidently. "Yore boss is up a tree; the best he can do is to slink back into Deadwood with his tail tucked tight into his hindquarters." The careless contempt fanned Paul's fury to a white heat but he fought it down; his greed was stronger still. His voice shook when he spoke: "You think so, eh? Well, listen: if at sunrise you do not tell what I want to know, I shall give these men permission to deal with you as they please; we can find the mine without you."

"With this gang o' cut-throats?" the cowboy jeered. "Why I could lose 'em fifty yards out in the brush; a s'loon or a gaol is the on'y places they're at home in."

"Throw him in the shack and put a guard on the door," Paul ordered, and with a savage desire to hurt, added, "And shoot that black horse." Sudden's lips clamped like a vice, but before he could speak Lora was on her feet.

"No," she cried vehemently. "That horse is mine if ..." The men looked at their leader and received a sullen nod of assent; Paul had a difficult explanation to make and this might help. The prisoner breathed a sigh of relief; at this moment he almost loved the woman who had saved his four-footed friend. As they slammed the door of the shack upon him, he had a last defiant word:"Don't oversleep, Hank, you might miss somethin'."

"What I'm hopin' is that you don't spill the beans," was the sinister retort.

Seated on an upturned box, Sudden listened to the steady tramp of the sentinel outside, walking to and fro, for the night was chilly. His mind was concerned with one thought only--he must get away. The reckless attempt to open Mary Ducane's eyes had been of no avail; she had already spoken, and the location of the real mine could only be a matter of time.

He tested his bonds, and was thankful they were not the work of cattlemen. Sudden grinned in the darkness; manipulation and the possible loss of some skin would free his hands. The problem of leaving did not trouble him; his upbringing had made observation a habit, and on first seeing the shack he had noticed that two of the back logs were rotten. But he must wait until the camp was quiet. Half an hour passed and someone spoke outside;

"Don't be a fool, Fagan. My brother thinks I can persuade him. Open the door, and keep away from it, or ..." He heard the squat man's grumbling reply, and then came a blur of light as Lora Lesurge entered.

"You can leave the lantern," she said sharply.

When he had gone she turned to the prisoner. "Jim, this is your last chance. Unless you give in, Paul will keep his promise to the men--and they hate you. As I passed I heard the beasts discussing what they will do."

"Ain't tryin' to scare me, are yu?"

"No, but what possessed you to attack my brother like that?"

"I figured it was time someone told him the truth, an' I might not get another opportunity."

"It was madness," she said. "He'll never forgive you, unless

"No `unless' about it," Sudden broke in. "To back down now would be my finish, an' yu know it. If he sent yu ..."

"It was my idea. I feared it would be useless, but I had to see you," she replied. A note of passion crept into her voice. "I must save you. Promise you will take me away--we can trick or overcome that wretch out there, get the horses, and ride out of this dreadful country into the wide world--together." She stepped closer and the flickering flame of the lantern revealed her parted, pleading lips and eager eyes. The cowboy felt the fascination of her and fought it. Deliberately he evaded the issue.

"Speakin' o' hosses, I gotta thank yu for savin' Nigger," he said. "If things don't go just right with me, I'd admire for yu to have him." She caught her breath. "Yes, yes, but things must go right," she whispered. "I have my knife--the same one, Jim--and we'll slip off and--live happily ever after," she finished with a tremulous smile.

Was she in earnest? He believed that for the moment she might be. But neither her beauty nor her warmth awakened any response in his breast, and he was not the kind to save his life with a lie.

"It wouldn't work out thataway," he said gently. "I'm a wanderer without a home--gotta be--an' yo're not made for poverty."

"You are thinking of those men. I'll help you find them, and Jim, I don't care for money." Swiftly she put her arms round his neck and clung to him. "Boy, boy, I only want you," she murmured. "Even if I'm only to be your slave, your plaything ..." She stopped as she looked up into his set face.

"Yo're talkin' wild an' I know yu don't mean it," he said sternly. "If ever I care for a woman, I'll not ask that of her." She shrank away as though he had struck her. "You--don't --love me?" she asked, and her voice had lost its softness.

Sudden shook his head. "Yo're mighty beautiful, but .."

"You would rather lose your life than share it with me," she finished furiously. "Very well; die, and be damned, you fool." She almost ran from the shack and slammed the door. He heard her give a curt order to Fagan, who came in and inspected his bonds. Then silence. The cowboy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wild Bill shorely gave me good advice," he muttered. "Wonder how much she was meanin'?" He smiled grimly. "Her husband won't find married life monotonous, I'm think-in'. Guess I'd better be going; Paul may decide there's no need to wait." He worked on the fastening round his wrists and presently slipped it off. Then he picked up the lantern--which had been left--and examined the back of his prison. At the moment when the crunching tread of Fagan's feet sounded farthest away, he drove his heel at what appeared to be a weak spot. The log splintered and broke, fortunately with no great noise, and another thrust produced a gap through which he could squeeze. Stooping low, he crawled along the side of the ravine, moving swiftly but soundlessly from one patch of shadow tothe next. He was stepping from behind a bush almost on the verge of the camp when a bulky figure butted into him. Instantly he had it by the throat, and the surprise of the attack brought the fellow down.

"A yelp from yu'Il be yore last," Sudden whispered fiercely, and drove the warning home by digging fingers of steel into his victim's windpipe. Finding there was no resistance, he relaxed his grip a little. "Yu can name yoreself," he said, "But --whisper." The half-throttled man was in poor shape to do more. "I'm Miller," he gasped. "Was comin' to--turn you loose. Got yore guns--in my belt." Sudden was not in a trustful mood. With one hand he searched for and found his weapons; not until then did he remove his knees from the prostrate miner's chest and allow him to get up. Husky rubbed his throbbing throat.

"You got one hell of a grip, Green," he said, and, realizing that some sort of an explanation was due, went on, "I don't like thisyer crowd--never did, an' when you told of Hank's little game it finished me--I lost a good pal that way. So I figured I'd help you slide out an' go along, if you'll have me."

"Shorely," Sudden replied. "Sorry I rough-housed yu but I couldn't take a risk. Any idea where my hoss is?"

"Clear o' camp with mine," Miller told him. "I tried to saddle both of 'em, but your'n nearly took the head off'n my shoulders. He's a beauty though. I don't savvy horses much, but I'd sooner trust a good 'un than most o' the men I've met, an' when Lesurge ordered him to be shot, I got his measure." If Husky meant to ingratiate himself with the cowboy he could have chosen no better way, but he was sincere, and Sudden--a competent judge of men despite his youth--knew it. The miner's creed was a simple one; if he believed a man deserved to die he would kill without compunction, but he would not lie, steal, or betray a friend.

Through the velvet blackness of the night they made their way to where the horses were picketed. Nigger greeted his master with a low whinny of pleasure, and a few moments later they were lost in the gloom of the brush. Husky asked a question.

"I've got friends handy," was the answer.

"I'm durn glad to hear it," the miner said. "I clean forgot 'bout grub. Gosh, I'd like to see them fellers's faces in the mornin'."

CHAPTER XXI

When Lora left the shack she was frantic with the rage and shame of a slighted woman, but by the time she reached the camp her virulent passion had passed, leaving only a dull despair. Paul was sitting alone by the fire. He waited for her to speak.

"That man is made of chilled steel," she said.

"The coldest steel will yield to sufficient heat," was his comment.

"How wonderful," she sneered. "I threw my arms round his neck and offered him life and my love. He--refused." Paul glared at her. "You did--that?" he cried.

"Certainly. You see to what lengths I go in your service."

"Are you sure it was on my account?"

"At one moment I was not," she confessed coolly. "But now I am--quite sure."

"Since he won't toe the line, he must die. When people cease to be of use to me, I get rid of them."

"Is that a hint?" she asked caustically.

"Possibly," he snapped. "Don't overplay your hand, Lora."

"Because if it is, I'd better prove I can still be useful," she went on. "Silencing Green won't help you; it would be more to the purpose if he led you to the mine." His gesture of impatience amused her. "Every prisoner dreams of escape. Where would Green go if he got away? To the mine, of course, where Mason--who would not come with us, though they are inseparable--is doubtless awaiting him." Paul's eyes gleamed. "By God, you're right; let him go and set hounds on his trail. I might have thought of that."

"Your mind is so fully occupied, my dear Paul," she said.

If he detected the sarcasm he ignored it. "Your story to Green is that I'm determined to kill him but you cannot bear it. Cut his bonds and tell him you've got Fagan out of the way. I'll have three men ready to follow him, and I'll take damned good care he doesn't get his own horse." He hurried away to do his part and the woman retraced her steps to the shack. The savage resentment towards the condemned man had gone and she was now doing what she could to save him. Once clear of the camp, she argued, it should be simple for a trained woodsman who knew he was being pursued, to trick men unused to following a trail. Outside the shack the stocky form of Fagan confronted her.

"Back again huh?" he jeered. "Thought you'd wished him good-bye a'ready."

"Open the door, and shut your foul mouth," she said.

The man obeyed and started back with an oath. "Hell's flames, he's gone!"

"Impossible!" she cried.

Thrusting him aside, she looked in. The lantern was there, still alight, but no prisoner; the hole in the wall at the back explained why. Her first feeling was one of elation--he had escaped, and then came a black thought--help had come from another. And, knowing it would, he had rejected her advances, no doubt laughing to himself, despising her ... Paul's harsh voice, speaking to Fagan, recalled her to reason.

"Escaped? How, you dolt?"

"Ask her," the man replied, pointing to Lora. "She's the only one what's been near him. She must 'a' cut " The woman whirled on him. "What did I tell you to do when I came out?"

"Done forgot that," Fagan stammered. "You said to make shore he was tied tight, an' I did." He darted into the shack, picked up the rope, and stared at it. "Ain't cut a-tall," he cried "an' the knots is just how we fixed 'em."

"Then you fixed them damned carelessly," Lesurge told him. Hank came running up. "Husky's hoss an' the black is missin'," he announced. "Mebbe the miner--"

"Talk sense," Paul interjected. "Miller would have used a knife and that hole has been made from the inside." A desire to vent his anger possessed him. "He's beaten the lot of you," he said, with a scathing look at his followers. "If I had six such men instead of you weaklings I'd conquer the world." The taunt penetrated even their thick skins and produced a chorus of muttered curses, but no one ventured an excuse. Baleful looks followed Lesurge and his sister as they returned to their own camp.

"The girl must tell all she knows or the old man suffers," Paul said vindictively. "I'll win--whatever the price." * * * Early on the ensuing morning, Mary and Lesurge were seated on an outcrop of rock near the camp, watching the fiery crimson splendour of the sun as it emerged from behind a distant range of hills. All traces of the tempest which had torn the man's self-control to shreds had gone; only the veiled passion in his gaze as it rested on her slim young body betrayed the fire within.

"The escape of the cowboy is serious," he began. "Really?" she asked. "Of course, you did not mean to--hurt him."

"I should have kept my word," he replied. "My dear, you do not fully comprehend. That man is an outlaw with a price on his head; his life is already forfeit. He is a cold-blooded killer, capable of any crime to compass his end--the stealing of our--your gold." Jo, "He might have robbed the coach," she objected.

"Green was after bigger game," Paul lied. "He's what you Westerners call a 'hawg'." She smiled at that but soon her face was grave again. "I never wanted wealth--much," she said reflectively. "And now I have seen what dreadful deeds men will do to get it ..."

"One has to live."

"Even though others die?"

"The inevitable law of Nature, from the tiniest insect upwards," he told her. "Mary, I want you to have every happiness that gold can give, but apart from that, I cannot let these bandits rob you; it would be my fault, due to my well-meant but stupid blunder." She laid a hand impulsively on his. "I will not have you blame yourself," she said. "Everything you did was for me." She flushed and added softly, "I hope that one day I can repay you." Her words sent the hot blood of desire racing through his veins and he bent his head lest she should see the naked lust which leaped to life in his eyes. Triumph surged in him; he had won--so far.

"My dear, you mean all to me," he said tenderly, "but I shall never be content until I have checkmated those rogues and repaired the damage I have done. You must help me to find the mine, Mary." The girl was silent, consldering. Snowy was an impostor, the secret her own and she had a right to part with it. In a low voice she told him: "This spot was spoken of and the cabin. You must follow the stream back to a strip of pines. A great granite finger which sways, overshadows the mine; the letter called it the Rocking Stone." Paul's eyes glistened. "If you'd only told me sooner," he said reproachfully.

"I promised not to," she replied. "I was given what seemed to be a good reason." With all his adroitness, he had hard work to hide his feelings. To have been baulked and nearly outwitted by a tool he hadmeant to use and throw aside made him writhe with rage. He promised himself that Snowy should pay--presently.

"Well, never mind, we can win yet," he smiled. "Come, Berg should have breakfast ready, and I'll own to being hungry." His good humour persisted when they returned to camp, and Lora--remembering his black mood but a few hours before--was scornfully amused. Snowy came sidling up, uncertain of his reception. Mary discerned his discomfort and took her own way to end it.

"Morning, Uncle Phil," she said.

It was her usual greeting, but this time it made the old man blink. He hesitated for a bare instant, and then. "Mornin', my dear," he returned huskily. Paul's frown was hut momentary.

"Good news, girls," he announced. "We take the trail today."

"To Deadwood?" Lora inquired.

"No, to El Dorado--the Land of Gold. Oh, it isn't far. We just travel up this creek till we reach a belt of trees, find an overhanging point of rock which moves, and there we are. Do you remember it--Ducane?" Snowy received the gibe apathetically. "Can't say I do," he mumbled. "Feller in Californy told me of a swingin' stone. a big chunk, one man could start rockin' but twenty couldn't tip her over. I reckoned he was lyin'. Never heard o' the like in these parts."

"You're going to see one, and work under the shadow of it, digging dust--for me," Paul said harshly. "And if you try to steal any I'll have you whipped."

"Mister Lesurge does not mean that, Uncle Phil," Mary said quietly. "If we have good fortune, you will share." Paul was quick to retrieve his error. "Of course I was only joking," he protested, but his laugh did not ring true.

While the preparations for departure were being made, Mary contrived to get the prospector alone.

"What is your real name, Uncle Phil?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I disremember--I've been 'Snowy' so long. Yo're mighty good to me, Mary, seein' how I've deceived you. There didn't seem much harm the way Paul put it, an' I was meanin' to play straight with you." Her eyes were gentle. "I don't doubt that, and my real uncle could not have been more kind. But how did you know so much about my father?"

"Fagan wised up Paul, an' he told me," Snowy confessed, and then, "Where did Fagan git his facts?"

"I cannot say. He travelled nearly all the way with me when I came to Wayside, but I told him nothing."

"So he might 'a' oeen around when yore father ..." Snowy did not finish.

"It is possible," she admitted, and stared at him. "You don't think--"

"I do--times; you'd be s'prised," he said. "An' Mary that fella Lesurge ain't fit to lick the mud off'n the boots o' them two cowboys." It was as though another man had spoken, and by the time amazement had given place to indignation, he was some yards distant.

"Uncle Phil," she called sharply.

"I'm tellin' you," he answered, and scurried away.

Later, as they followed the curves of the little creek, she put a question to Paul:

"You expect to find Green at this place we're going to?"

"Yes, and probably his friend Mason, who declined to join my party."

"But why should Green have come, since he knew where o find the mine?" * "That's his damned cleverness. If he could persuade us that the ravine was the genuine article, we go back to Deadwood in disgust, leaving him a clear field, an artful scheme which, thanks to you, we shall defeat." The praise did not please her--she was dubious about the part she' had played, and almost regretting the search for her uncle and his elusive fortune. It had been a shock to discover that the quaint, gentle old man was a fraud and she could not yet believe that he had meant ill to her. It gave her a feeling of lonely helplessness which the presence of Paul failed to eradicate. She found herself hoping first that Gerry would be there, and then that he would not.

* * * The fugitives found the company at the Rocking Stone busy as beavers, but they gathered round eagerly to hear the news, for the puncher's early appearance, with a companion, told them something had happened. The story did not take long.

"So here we are," Sudden concluded. "Husky figures to throw in with us." The big miner shed his coat and rolled up his sleeves. "Gimme a shovel," he said. "One week here an' I'll go back an' stand Deadwood on its head."

"We won't have a week," Sudden warned. "I reckon that right now they're on the way."

"Yu think they'll find us?" Gerry asked.

"Shorely, the girl will weaken--Lesurge has a medicine tongue with women"--he saw the boy wince--"an' she's fond o' Snowy, even though he ain't what she thought."

"Never could understan' her bein' kin' to that of scatterbrain," Gerry said.

"Snowy is straight," Sudden told him. "Don't yu gamble too much on his bein' loco neither." He spoke to Husky. "Yu gotta remember that this claim belongs to Miss Ducane; we're on'y workin' it for her."

"What's yore plan?" Rogers asked the puncher.

"Hide the hosses outside an' put a man at the entrance," Sudden said. He studied the long, steep slope at the top of which the giant stone frowned down upon them, direful, menacing. "Cuss it, if they get up there they can pepper us like rats in a pit." However, short of abandoning the mine, which none of them even thought of, there was nothing else to be done. The horses were removed to a grassy hollow hedged in by thick, thorny scrub, and Bowman, armed with a rifle, was stationed at the entrance. The others went on with the work of gathering the wealth which for centuries had lain there undisturbed. Sudden and Gerry were together.

"How much o' this mine will Snowy an' Miss Ducane get if Lesurge can put his dirty paws on it?" the latter asked presently.

"Six foot each to lie in, same as the rest of us," was the grim reply. "An' he'll wash the dust out first."

"But he wouldn't kill the girl."

"Mebbe not--at once, but she'd come to wishin' he had." The young man's spade rasped fiercely against the rock floor. "We're as strong as they are. Why not go an' clean 'em up?"

"He holds the trump card--Miss Ducane. If we could steal her away--but she wouldn't come."

"Yu tellin' me she's in love with that--skunk?" Gerry demanded hotly.

"Whatever has skunks done to yu?" Sudden asked satirically. "Mebbe she thinks she is. Yu see, he's got all the points that appeal to a girl, an' he don't run around with outlaws."

"No, Fagan and company bein' highly respectable members o' the community," the boy sneered.

"But he on'y employs 'em Gerry, which is some different," Sudden said with quizzical gravity. "Now if yu paid me to do yore killin' ... "

"Aw, go to hell," was the inelegant rejoinder.

The afternoon was waning when they got the first intimation of the enemy's presence, and a sad one it was. Rogers had gone to relieve the sentinel, only to come back on the run, his face drawn with rage and grief.

"Tom's dead," he cried. "God damn the murderin' rats." In horrified silence they followed him. There, just outside the opening, Bowman lay sprawled face downward, his hands full of rubble gripped in a last agony. An ugly red stain below the neck of his shirt betrayed the manner of his passing. Sudden knelt beside the body.

"Stabbed from behind," he said. "Never had a chance. What's that?" He pointed to a Ievel space on the cliff-wall, just above the dead man's head. Scratched there in rude print were the words, "Evens up for Husky." Sudden stood, his face rigid with grief; he had brought this man to his death. "That settles it," he said. "We'll move the camp here an' have two of us in it allatime; we mustn't be catched again." The others nodded agreement. Familiar as they all were with violence, the swiftness of the tragedy had stunned them. In grim silence they carried their comrade away, and later laid him to rest in a corner of the basin. As they piled rocks over the grave, Rogers, who had known him long, spoke for them all:

"I'd never ask for a better pardner than Tom." * * * Determined not to be misled again, Lesurge kept as close as possible to the creek. This involved a circuitous route and the negotiation of many thickets and patches of scrub, lengthening the journey considerably. It was Paul himself who first descried the belt of pines with the conical rock cleaving the sky above them.

On the verge of the pines, near where the stream emerged, Paul decided to camp. Calling Hank aside, he gave him certain directions, and with a nod of comprehension, the fellow took his rifle and vanished, on foot, into the deep shadow of the trees. The others lighted two fires, at a little distance apart, unloaded the packs, and made preparations for spending the night there. It was more than an hour before Hank reappeared striding swiftly.

"Well?" he said, as the messenger came to where he was pacing up and down, alone.

"You were right, boss, they're there, shore enough," was the reply. "An' by the way they're pitchin' in the stuff's there too. It's a hole in the rocks--like a big holler tooth, an' I couldn't see but the one way in."

"How many of them?"

"Seven--leastways, there was seven."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, one was watchin' an' I sorta subtracted him, just to level up for Husky." The evil smirk of satisfaction with which he admitted the murder wilted as he read his employer's expression. "You clumsy clown," Paul rasped. "That puts them on their guard and makes it impossible for us to get in."

"I had to abolish him," Hank said sullenly. "Couldn't 'a' seen nothin' no other way; that hole is walled all round."

"The more reason for leaving the opening available," Lesurge snarled. "In the dark, with only one man to deal with, we could have surprised and overpowered them while they slept. Was Green there?"

"Yeah, an' his bunkie, Mason, an' Jacob."

"Jacob? What's he doing there?"

"I didn't ask," Hank replied impudently, and got a black look, which disturbed him not at all; he was hitting back to recover his self-respect.

Lesurge dismissed him with a gesture and joined the women, who, with Snowy, were sitting by one of the fires. The old man eyed him furtively as he approached.

"It is as I expected," he informed them. "Green, Mason, and five--four others are in possession of your property, Mary, and shifting them is not going to be easy." The girl looked troubled. "Would it not be possible to make some arrangement--to share?" she asked. "If the mine is as rich as we believe, there should be enough for all."

"No, by God!" Paul exploded. "These fellows are thieves and I will not"--he paused and finished less violently--"allow you to be robbed."

"I would rather lose all than have bloodshed," Mary replied earnestly.

"A very proper sentiment--for a woman," he told her, and the faint sneer brought the colour to her cheeks. "I should regard myself as less than a man, however, if I let you do so. Leave it to me my dear; I shall find a way to deal with these claim-jumpers." He looked hard at Snowy. "No one is to leave camp; it is not safe."

"Do you think Green and his friends would shoot women?" Lora asked superciliously.

"Never mind what I think--I'm giving orders," he said sharply.

Her eyes followed him as he stalked away. "Charming person, my dear brother," she commented, "and so concerned about your interests."

"You don't seem to have much sisterly affection," Mary said.

"Sisterly affection?" Lora echoed vehemently. "Why--I hate him. He's " She stopped suddenly, lips shut like a vice, got up, and walked to the tent, leaving her companion dumbfounded.

Chapter XXII

Paul Lesurge was taking a walk. Heading straight through the sun-spangled strip of firs, he came to a wellnigh vertical barrier of cliff which only a monkey or a cat could hope to climb. Being a different kind of beast, he did not attempt it, but made his way westwards along the base of the obstacle. Soon, as he had expected, the ground rose, and as the trees became smaller and fewer, he could see above and immediately before him, the great boulder which Philip Ducane had called the Rocking Stone, ponderous, menacing, seeming about to crash down upon him.

He toiled on; climbing was hard work, for there was no break and debris from the hill-top made care necessary. At length he reached the level of the cliff-wall, passed it but a few paces, and turning, beheld--the mine.

The first point which struck him was the aptness of Hank's simile; a big, hollow tooth it was, the jagged ends of the shell fringed with foliage, save where a steep, boulder-strewn slant mounted to the threatening bulk of the Rolling Stone. On the sand and rubble floor of the hollow, only a few hundred feet below, he could see four men at work--the other two were doubtless guarding the entrance. His thin lips curled in a wolfish snarl.

"Make the most of your time," he muttered. "Tomorrow, you'll hear from me."

He studied the place where he stood; it was going to be easier than he had dared to hope. There were stones behind which marksmen might shelter and the hollow was devoid of cover; two or three men with rifles could deal death at their leisure. One only of the enemy he feared--that damned cowpuncher, and concerning him he had a plan.

He had learned all he wished but did not go. The great stone had a fascination and he determined to examine it. A detour enabled him to make the ascent unobserved and presently he stood behind the monster monolith. It was larger than he had supposed, a huge pear-shaped chunk of granite, the curved base resting upon a smooth rock platform. Some fantastic freak of Nature had flung it there, so poised a push seemed sufficient to dislodge it, a task the tempests of untold centuries had failed to achieve. What had Snowy said of the one in California? "One man could start her rockin' but twenty couldn't tip her over." For a moment he hesitated and then hurled his weight against the stone. Did it move? He could not say, but made no further trial.

A narrow ledge just below on the other and more precipitous side of the hill caught his eye. It was no more than a track but it seemed to offer an easier means of descent into the maze of savage but majestic country which stretched to the horizon. He clambered down and stood gazing into the abyss. Far below was a black floor of pine-trees moving in the breeze like the surface of a restless sea. Somehow the place oppressed him, the big stone seemed to hover above like a bird of ill omen, the glare of the descending sun was blood-red, there was an air of death.

With an effort he shook the feeling off. He was still young, wealth almost unbounded lay within his grasp, and with wealth, wisely used, a clever man could accomplish anything. "Governor of Dakota." He murmured the words as he turned again towards the camp.

By the time he reached it, dusk was approaching. The men were squatting round their fire, feeding and whispering together; they took no notice of him as he passed. The prospector and Mary were conversing near the tent, while Lora paced restlessly to and fro. He went to her.

"I want your help," he said shortly.

In the half light her face showed wan. "I'm tired of the whole rotten business," she replied. "I'll do no more." She saw his jaw tighten. "Are you going to fail me on the eve of success?" he asked. "Don't you realize that it means wealth and ease for the rest of our lives?"

Ever since her conversation with Mary she had been weigh- ing the project of desertion to the other camp, and now the opportunity had been forced upon her. She knew that the mes- sage she was bearing was false--a hidden motive in it--and she had no intention of persuading Green to accede.

"He must take me with him--I won't go back," she panted, as she stumbled on through the gloom.

Save for the furtive movements of four-footed denizens of the undergrowth the silence was profound. Then came the weird screech of an owl and she shook with fright. The black bulk of the cliff loomed up before her and she turned to the left, leaving the trickle of water which had been her guide; the soft gurgle of it over the stones had been some sort of company. She had gone but a few paces when a gruff voice spoke:

"Who's there? Speak up sharp or I'll shoot." With a sigh of relief she gave her name and business. She heard men speaking in tones too low for her to distinguish what they said, and then the tall figure of the cowboy came striding out of the darkness. There was light enough for him to see that she was alone, and he slipped his drawn gun into the holster.

"What brings you here?" he asked bluntly.

"I must speak with you," she said, "and--I don't want your friends to hear." She moved away, and when he hesitated, added, "you need not doubt; there is no one with me." The puncher followed her. "I ain't naturally nervous," he said ironically, "but one of us was knifed a few hours back."

"My God!" she breathed. "Then it was--Hank. He was sent to spy, and Paul was angry when he returned."

"The killin' interfered with his plan, I s'pose," Sudden said bitterly. "Does he know yo're here?"

"He sent me," Lora replied, and gave the reason.

She could not see the man's face but knew what it would have told her--mocking contempt for one who could make such an offer after the butchery of Bowman. The hard voice held out no hope.

"Did he think I'd fall for that?"

"I told him I could persuade you, but I'm not going to try-- I know he's lying. I wanted to come--on my own account. Jim, I am going mad. I dare not go back. For the love of God let me stay with you." The passionate appeal rang true but left him unmoved, doubting. Was it the outcome of real terror, or one of the many moods she was mistress of? He could not decide but--

"I've heard the tale so often," she replied wearily.

"This time you can believe it. Listen! I have been examining the enemy's position; it is impregnable. Much as I hate doing so, I shall have to adopt that girl's suggestion and make terms. Green is the leader of these bandits and I want you to put my proposals to him." The woman kept her head bowed less he should see the sudden gleam of hope in her eyes. "Why should he listen to me?" she muttered sullenly.

"I fancy he has a fondness for you," Paul said. "And there is no one else. To send Snowy or the girl would be putting cards in their hands, and any man of us might meet a bullet." She feigned reluctance. "How can I get word with Green?"

"Follow the stream as far as you can and bear to the left. You will be challenged. Say that you wish to speak with Green --alone. If you are afraid, I will send Hank with you."

"Much obliged, but then I should be afraid," she replied cuttingly. "What am Ito tell the cowboy?"

"That to avoid trouble, Miss Ducane is prepared to join forces and work the mine on a shares basis, she and her uncle, of course, to have the larger interests. The details can be agreed upon."

"Where do we come in?" she asked curiously.

"Mary will not be ungrateful," Lesurge explained, "and the old man will take what is given him; you need not discuss that."

"You mean to play fair?"

"Certainly, and you must convince him of that; you should be able to."

"Having under your expert tuition, become such an accom- plished liar," she added acrimoniously. "Well, I'll go, but I wish to heaven we'd never heard of Ducane and his damned mine." A malevolent look followed her as she stepped through the gathering shadows towards the creek. Could he trust her? He smiled wryly. Paul Lesurge trusted no one. He spoke to the men and four of them stole after the messenger.

Though she walked listlessly so long as she was in sight, the moment she reached the dusky vagueness of the trees her step quickened. Little did the man who had sent her guess how eager she was to do his errand. Lora Lesurge was in deadly fear. A creature of cities and crowded places, she could not bear the threatening solitude. Moreover, she was defenceless; her woman's weapon of beauty became, in the company she was in, another danger. And, for the first time in her life, she was afraid of Paul.

raul Lesurge had sent her. His silence told that he was about to refuse and she made a last desperate bid. Clutching him wildly, she cried:

"Jim, you must take me. I--" Out of the murky dimness, creeping forms closed silently in on them, and Sudden, striving to rid himself of the woman, found his arms gripped in a ruder grasp. With a violent gesture he tore his right hand free, thrust Lora away, and rammed his fists into an indistinct patch which he took to be a face. The thud of the blow was followed by a grunt as the man dropped. Swiftly stooping, the cowboy caught the fellow by collar and belt, swung the senseless form up, and with a mighty effort, hurled it at three charging shadows. Without waiting to see the effect of this unusual missile, he ran for the cliff opening. His story was received with varying expressions of anger and disgust.

They fell to discussing it, but Sudden was silent. A woman had fooled him, drawn him into a trap, and held him while he was attacked. He told himself that she was nothing to him, that he had always distrusted her, and yet the memory of her cry as he had retreated remained: "Jim, I didn't know--I swear--" The voice was cut off as though a hand had been clapped over the speaker's lips.

Meanwhile the subject of his thoughts was being escorted back to the camp. When Hank and Lem had been knocked flat by the smallish but decidedly bony body of Bandy, the fourth man, Fagan, had gripped the woman's arm.

"Tryin' to get away an' double-cross us, huh?" he gibed. "I reckon Paul'Il wanta see you."

"Take your filthy paws off, and don't be more of a fool than Nature made you," she said fiercely. "Paul himself sent me."

"Yeah, an' he sent us to watch you," was the sneering reply.

"Your job was to take Green, and you've failed--as usual," she retorted. "Better get your excuses for that ready." The others came up, Rodd still half-dazed from the rough treatment he had received, and they returned to the camp. Lora went straight to her brother. Fury at the thought that she had been used as a bait, for the moment, dispelled her fear.

"Since when have your hirelings had permission to treat me like a common drab?" she asked indignantly.

Lesurge looked at the men. "Where's Green?" he barked. "He got away," Fagan muttered.

"Yes, in spite of the fact that I was holding him when theyattacked," Lora taunted. "Four of them to one and--he got away." With an evil glare at her, Fagan drew his chief aside. She could not hear what was being said, but knew that she would need all her resource. Paul's expression, when he came back, told her nothing.

"The cowboy refused my offer?"

"Of course, after what one of these curs had done," she answered heatedly. "Had I known of that I would not have gone."

"You told him you were afraid and begged for his protection," the cold voice continued. "Don't trouble to lie; Fagan heard all." The woman's brain was racing. "I had to think of something to keep him," she said. "I guessed your plan, and I didn't know the men had arrived."

"And you were so fearful he might escape that you put your arms about him?" Paul persisted. Lora did not reply; she had failed. "Am I to believe that you really desired to trap your lover?" The accusation stirred her. "He is not that," she denied. "If he were, you would not dare to insult me." Lesurge lost his mask of immobility; his face became fiendish. "Would I not?" he hissed through clenched teeth. "You don't know me--but you shall." He looked at the men. "You can all go, except Hank." He waited until they had slouched reluctantly away, and then turned to Lora.

"I warned you once," he said. "You are not only of no use but a danger to me; I am going to get rid of you." He read the quick dread in her staring eyes. "Oh, not that way." His laugh was vile. "Hank here, finds you attractive, I fancy." It took the rascal a moment to comprehend, and then, with a gloating leer, he said eagerly, "Shore, she won't have forgot them days in the hills."

"I make you a present of her," Paul proceeded calmly.

This outrageous act almost petrified the person it most concerned. Torn between anger and stark fear, she could but gasp, "You are mad."

"As you told Green," he reminded. "No, I was that when I trusted you; now I am sane again."

"You dare not do it," she muttered hoarsely.

"Who is to prevent me?" he asked. "Here, I am--king." Mary Ducane, who, with Snowy, had been a silent spectator of this strange scene, stepped forward.

"Paul, you must not do this terrible thing--she is your own blood," she pleaded.

"That is not the case," Lesurge said deliberately.

Mary gazed from one to the other, almost doubting her ears. Lora drew herself up defiantly.

"I am no sister of his," she cried, her tone vibrant with contempt. "I am only--his wife."

"You are not even that," he retorted. "True, there was a ceremony, but the man who performed it had no right to do so." The icy, dispassionate statement compelled credence. "You --devil," she raged. "I will have your life for that." Lesurge's face might have been carved in stone, a revengeful, malignant mask. He motioned to Hank.

"Take her away. She will need discipline; I have been too indulgent." The brute's grin was bestial. "I can tame 'em," he said. "Had an Injun squaw once " He saw from Paul's expression that this was not the time for reminiscences, and stepped towards Lora. "Come along, beauty; you an' me is goin' to git better acquainted." She had been standing like a statue, eyes fixed on the man who had condemned her, hands clasped to her breast as though to still the beating of her heart. Hank laid an arm about her and like a tiger-cat she twisted in his grasp and struck at him. The fellow's knees sagged, his eyes rolled horribly, and with a gurgling gasp he went down. Bending, the woman watched as life went in a last convulsive contortion, and in a shrill, unnatural voice, cried:

"The dog is dead; it should have been his master, but your turn will come, Paul." With a wild laugh, she turned and ran, disappearing into the darkness before the paralysed onlookers could guess her intention. Fagan and the others, who had hurried over when they heard Hank's death-cry, stood grouped round the body. One of them turned it over, disclosing the dagger, buried to the haft at the base of the throat. Lesurge frowned when he saw it.

"I forgot about that damned knife she carried," he said. "She shore knowed where to put it," Fagan observed critically. "What are we to do with the body?"

"Bury it, of course," Paul snapped.

Tough as they were, the men did not smile at the savage jest, and their sullen faces told him it was ill-timed. He tried to make amends:"His share will be split amongst you." He got no thanks, a circumstance he was to remember. Lem put a question about Lora.

"She's gone to Green, I expect," Paul replied. "We must keep a look-out, in case they try anything. I'll take the first spell." He went back to the fire. He had seen Mary, with Snowy endeavouring to comfort her, vanish into the tent. The old man, rolled in his blanket, was lying across the entrance. Paul's lips curled disdainfully at the sight.

Chapter XXIII

Sunrise found the camp astir, but Mary did not appear for the morning meal. Snowy made her excuses:

"She ain't feelin' too good, which you can't wonder at; it warn't a pretty sight for a gal."

"Nevertheless, I must speak with her," Paul replied. "In any case, we are leaving, and she must come with us."

"Leavin'?" Snowy repeated.

"We are going to drive those damned interlopers out and take possession," Lesurge explained. "Did you imagine I would let a mad woman upset my plans? Send Mary to me, and mind your step, if you want to go on living." Presently the girl joined him; her face was pale and weary, but there was a resoluteness in her bearing. Paul's manner had none of the brusqueness he had shown to Snowy.

"I am deeply grieved about last night, Mary, but you must not judge me too severely," he began. "The discovery of that woman's treachery angered me beyond measure. Of course, I " should not have allowed the matter to go further--I only wished to frighten her."

"If she is not your wife, you deceived her cruelly," Mary said quietly. "No woman could forgive such a shameful trick."

"It was an accident," Paul said quickly. "We were married in a small settlement in Missouri, by a man whom everyone called `Judge.' It was only much later that I learned it was but a courtesy title, and that he was a dissolute old rascal who would do anything for a fee. We were travellers, you see, and went on the following day. When I found out, by chance, I dared not tell her--she would have killed me." The explanation was plausible enough, but Mary Ducane did not find it convincing.

"You should have told her, and made the only possible reparation," she said. "By all the laws of morality, she is your wife."

"It would have been suicide--Lora's temper is that of a fiend; Hank was the second victim of it since we came to Deadwood" His voice acquired a pleading note. "When you know more of the world, you will understand what a lovely unscrupulous woman can accomplish. I was infatuated, and it was only after I came to Wayside that I began to realize that she was an evil influence in my life. When I saw you ... "

"you deceived me also," she coldly reminded. "Had I been aware that Lora was not your sister ... "

"An arrangement made before I met you--at her wish," he explained eagerly. "She revelled in her ability to attract men, and insisted on posing as a single woman. Not only a traitor, but unfaithful, in love with that cowpuncher. My dear, don't waste any pity on her; she has gone from our lives like an evil dream. Your wish will be my law now, Mary." The impassioned appeal fell on deaf ears. "I have but one--to get away from this accursed country immediately," she said. "And leave the mine?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, I am sorry I ever heard of it," she cried.

"It brought us together," he said softly. "Don't say you regret that."

"I do," she replied firmly. "Mister Lesurge

"Paul," he corrected.

"Mister Lesurge," she repeated. "Until last evening, I fancied I cared for you, but now I know it was no more than the fascination of an inexperienced girl for a man unlike any she had met."

"Your love for me will revive."

"No, it never existed." The finality in her tone told him that this was no whim of an overwrought mind, and it came like a blow in the face. He had been so sure. Her very coldness fed the fire within him.

"I'll teach you to care," he muttered thickly.

One swift step and she was captive, pressed close to him, his hot lips showering kisses upon her own, frozen, unresponsive. She made no attempt to resist, lying limply in his arms. But for the scorn in her eyes he might have been embracing a corpse. Some realization of this brought her release.

"And now I hate you," she said.

"School your tongue," he warned. "I know how to deal with vixens. You may yet have to choose between myself and--Fagan." "Of two evils " she began contemptuously.

"You would prefer Fagan," he finished furiously. "The fellow who knifed your " He saw the dawning horror in her face, and paused, too late.

"Fagan--slew--my--father?" she panted. "And you--were waiting for us at Wayside. The cowboy was right." She swayed like a sapling in the breeze but steadied herself when he advanced, "Don't touch me, you murderer." Nor did he stay her, when with stumbling steps, she ran towards the tent. Snowy came to meet her.

"Take me away, Uncle Phil, anywhere," she sobbed.

The old man put an arm round her. "We gotta be patient, honey," he said. "They'd just naturally shoot us down. Things'll come right."

"I've no one but you."

"Well, I wouldn't say just that. There's a young fella not so far off mightn't agree." It brought the colour into her cheeks again; the thought of Gerry was very pleasant. "I expect he's forgotten," she whispered.

"When I see him last he was mighty partic'lar in his inquiries," Snowy lied cheerfully.

Lesurge was giving orders to Fagan. "That old fraud and the girl must be watched," he concluded. "By the way, she knows you assisted her father into the next world."

"The hell she does'?' the other growled. "Who told her?"

"Lora, I expect," Paul prevaricated. "She can prove nothing, and out here . . ." He shrugged his shoulders. "Of course, if she took the story to that gun-slinger, Sudden ... " Fagan's alarmed expression told him that Mary Ducane would be well guarded.

"Get busy," he said, "and we'll smoke those rats out of their hole."

* * *

The morning sun shone down upon a saddened but grimly determined group in the Rocking Stone mine.

"They'll strike to-day," Sudden said, and no one doubted it.

Jacob and Humit were placed on guard, while the rest dug and washed for gold, their rifles beside them. The two cowboys were working together, glumly and silently. Both were seeing visions: Sudden, of an apparently fear-distraught, frantic woman, and Gerry, a pair of frosty blue eyes, in a proud little face, rosily indignant because he had told the owner he meant to marry her.

"Damnation!" he said presently.

"Scratched yore finger?" Sudden asked solicitously.

"No, broke my neck," Gerry retorted, and then, "Wonder if she's all right?"

"Reckon so--her brother'll look after her," was the reply. "What the ?" Gerry commenced, adding, as comprehension came to him, "I warn't thinkin' o' Miss Lesurge."

"No?" his friend asked innocently.

"Yo're the wise guy, ain't yu?" Gerry gibed. "S'pose yu tell me how them poison-toads is goin' to get us outa here?"

"They might starve us, or plug the outlet o' the creek an' flood the basin--the entrance bein' considerable above the floor level," Sudden pointed out. "But both them methods is kind o' slow, an' I'd say--" Crack! The spiteful report of a rifle rang out and Husky swung round, clutching his left arm.

"Hell's bells, yu got yore answer," Sudden swore, and jumped for his Winchester.

A thinning puff of smoke showed that the shot had come from the slope leading to the Rocking Stone, and a moment later, three others, from different points, followed. One swept Gerry's hat from his head, while another whistled uncomfortably close to his companion's ear. Sudden flung himself at full length behind a heap of gravel.

Gerry spread himself beside his friend. The pile, woefully small even for one, was the only cover available.

Husky and Rogers, who were nearer the camp, made a bolt and reached it safely.

"Good for them," Sudden commented. "But now we'll have all the attention." Four bullets which ploughed through the gravel in front of them endorsed his remark. Gerry wriggled and cursed. "Yu hit?" Sudden asked anxiously.

"Stone cut my cheek," was the reply. "It's like bein' peppered with a scatter-gun." He pushed up a rampart of gravel, only to have it dispersed by another volley. "May the bones rot in their bodies," he added viciously, as he spat out a mouthful of grit.

They had been firing at intervals, largely to relieve their feelings, for they had nbthing to aim at save the rocks which sheltered the marksmen.

"I never thought the day would come when I'd want to see Angel-face," Sudden said whimsically.

"Lesurge is the jigger I'd admire to get a bead on," Gerry replied. "If he shows hisself, don't yu trouble to fire." But their wishes were to go unsatisfied. Instead, they got a perfect hail of bullets and before it their flimsy defence rapidly disintegrated. It became obvious that, in a few moments, their position would be untenable; both were cut and bruised by flying pebbles, and several times, each had escaped death by a bare inch.

"They're turnin' the damn place into a lead-mine," Sudden remarked. "We gotta run for it. Get ready." They waited until a lull in the fusillade suggested that the snipers might be reloading, and Sudden gave the word. Leaping to their feet, they raced for shelter, zigzagging as they went. Shots zipped past them, flinging up the dust on every side, but they reached the rest of the band unscathed. Both were winded, for it was uphill, and the loose sand and gravel made speed an achievement; also, their high-heeled cowboy boots were not built for sprinting. Sudden's first question was addressed to Husky:

"Hurt much?"

"Flesh wound--nothin' bruk--smarts a few," the miner grinned. "There's on'y four shootin'; where's the other two?"

"Watchin' Snowy an' the women, I'd say," the puncher surmised. "An' I'm bettin' Lesurge is one of 'em; he ain't the sort to risk his hide."

"Yu'd shorely win," Rogers chimed in. "What's the next move, Jim?"

"We'll clear out an' get the hosses."

"An' let 'em grab the mine?" Humit asked disappointedly.

"We can get it back when we want," Sudden argued. "One good shot up on the slope can make this place impossible; with the rest of us workin' this end, we'd have 'em comin' an' goin'."

"She's a good scheme," Rogers agreed. "If they'd thought o' that, we'd be out on a limb right now." Taking only their weapons and a small supply of food, they set out for the spot where they had hidden the horses. This was a good half-mile distant, and to the east, where the enemy would be unlikely to chance upon them, for to be set afoot in the Black Hills would have been a calamity.

* * The ignominious retreat of the cowboys had evoked derision among the sharp-shooters, mingled with disgust at their own failure to bowl over at least one of them.

"See 'em run," Lem called to Fagan, who was about a dozen yards distant. "Skippin' like a couple o' jack-rabbits." He waited a while, balanced his hat on the barrel of his gun, and raised it cautiously above the boulder behind which he was crouching. Nothing happened, and after another wait, he rose slowly to his full height. The expected shot did not come; the hollow was clearly deserted.

"They've pulled their freight," he announced.

One by one the other marksmen emerged from their shelters and joined him.

"What's to do now?" Berg asked.

"Git our tools an' collar the mine. What d'you s'pose?"

"They may come back."

"Then we'll stand 'em off," Fagan retorted. "But I figure it this way; they must 'a' cleaned up a lot o' dust while we was foolin' in that damned ravine and they're content to get away with that--playin' safe, like. If it ain't so, why let us in an' have all the trouble o' drivin' us out again?" The others agreed that his reasoning was sound, and they all slithered along the slope until they reached the spot where Paul, Snowy, and the girl were waiting, the latter two with their wrists bound. Their gaoler, pacing restlessly back and fore, was silent, but there was a look in his dark eyes which filled her with fear. The men appeared, and Fagan made his report.

"You are probably right but Lem had better make sure," Paul decided.

The scout reached the camp almost as soon as they. He was jubilant.

"They've flew the coop, shore enough," he said. "An' they went in a hurry--left their tools an' some grub behind. The hosses ain't there neither."

"Good, that'll save us totin' a lot o' truck up there," Fagan chuckled. "C'mon, boys, let's git agoin'." Lesurge stepped forward. "Wait a moment, Fagan; I think I command here." The man turned; whether by accident or design, his rifle was pointed at the speaker. His mouth was twisted in an insolent sneer.

"Best think again," he said. "This is where you fade out o' the picture. You've hazed us long enough, an' we've put up with it 'cause we knowed this moment would come. Yeah, I was yore dawg, to pat or kick, as you pleased, a damn fool you could use, but I had this planned when I come to Wayside an' you've been workin' for me, Paul Lesurge. Savvy?" For a moment, Lesurge did not; the unexpectedness of the event dazed him. He was the master, and the possibility of a mutiny had never occurred to his autocratic mind. Fagan, a mere animal . Gradually the realization of his position seeped into his bewildered brain. He was helpless; if he attempted to punish the traitor, the others would kill him. He had been mad indeed to put himself at the mercy of these scoundrels. No wonder they had shown no sign of gratitude when he promised them Hank's share. He smothered his rising rage and steeled himself to speak calmly:

"Fagan, we have been friends a long time, and I have always trusted you and your companions

"To do yore dirty work," Lem interjected.

"For which I paid well," Paul replied. "After the coach affair, for example, I handed Fagan a considerable sum to be divided amongst you." It was a complete fabrication, designed to sow dissension, but it brought black looks for the new leader from the other three.

"That's an infernal lie," Fagan cried. "You never gave me a cent--said you were broke." Paul shrugged. "I can't prove it, of course," he admitted. "But have you thought of this? If Green and his gang have worked the mine out, you get nothing, for you lose the amount I promised to pay in any case."

"Hell, we're takin' the chance," Fagan answered. He knew the persuasive power of Paul's tongue, and trusted his cronies not at all. "If the mine's as good as Snowy made out, them hombres can't 'a' more'n scratched it."

"The old fool was apt to exaggerate," Lesurge argued. "Look here, boys; I'm prepared to share equally--cut it up five ways."

"Now ain't that generous?" Fagan sneered. "But you was allus great at givin' away what warn't your'n, Paul. Now I'll make you a present--the gal. I had notions 'bout her myself once, but she's too milk an' water, an' she'd on'y be a burden." He backed towards his pony, finger on trigger, and, settled in the saddle, uttered a final jeer: "I've got yore rifle, Paul, case you should be searchin' for it. Give my respec's to yore wife--she's more of a man than you'll ever be. Adios, an'--damn you." With mocking salutations they rode off, leaving one whom fury had bereft of reason. In the very instant of victory he had not only lost all but had been outplayed and derided by one he had always despised--a "blunt instrument." He, Paul Lesurge, the polished, clever man of the great world, defeated by--Fagan! More than the loss of the gold, that thought maddened him, and for a space he gave rein to a blind rage. With upraised clenched fists and body shaking with the violence of his passion, he cursed the men who had bested him. And then he stopped suddenly, his wild gaze on the Rocking Stone.

"By God, I'll teach them," he almost shouted, and ran to a pile of packages the rebels had left behind.

The prisoners heard his low yelp of exultation, watched him cram something into his pocket, and then he came towards them.

"You'll go with me," he said to the girl.

Snowy stood up, determination on his seamed face. "You'll remain here," Paul said.

"I'm keepin' with Mary," was the dogged reply.

Lesurge turned fiercely upon him. "You heard that whelp Fagan talk down to me and think you can do the same, eh?" he grated.

From beneath the breast of his coat he drew a revolver and raised it. Mary gasped and made a movement to interpose, but the gleaming barrel swept swiftly up and down. Under that fell blow, the old man crumpled and dropped, blood oozing from an ugly gash on his brow.

"You coward!" Mary cried. "You have killed him."

"Merely stunned, I'm afraid," he returned callously. "Come."

"I will not," she panted.

His smile was hateful. "Are you so anxious to be in my arms?" he asked.

With dragging feet and a heart of lead she followed; any thing rather than he should lay hands on her. Through the belt of pines and along the cliff-wall they went. Presently they reached the level of the slope and he warned her to keep out of sight. Down in the mine below four dwarfed figures were hard at work. Lesurge surveyed them with scorn.

"Not even sense enough to set a guard," he muttered. "If the others came back ... " A possibility occurred to him. "By heaven, I wish they would." Herding his captive in front of him, and taking care they could not be seen, he climbed to the Rocking Stone. He need not have worried about the men below, they were finding gold and had no eyes for anything else. With a rifle, he could have destroyed them one by one, but they had drawn his teeth--as they believed. A satanic smile wreathed his lips at the thought."You should have lulled me, friend Fagan," he mocked.

Breathless and exhausted, Mary slumped on a bench of stone, watched with weary, hopeless eyes. He was on his knees beneath the mighty rock, busy with some objects he had taken from the pockets of his long coat, burying them under a packed heap of rubble and dust. She knew that he was mad, but could not fathom his purpose. After a while he rose, contemplating his work with evil satisfaction. He looked again at the men below, toiling feverishly, oblivious to all else.

"If only Green would come the coup would be complete," he muttered.

His desire was granted, but not as he had hoped for; the cowboy was climbing towards him, and further down, his friends followed. After obtaining their horses, they had blundered into Snowy, still half-dazed by the blow he had received, but able to tell them what had happened.

"Lora Lesurge his wife?" Gerry ejaculated. "The damned hound." He glanced at Sudden, but that young man's face expressed no emotion whatever; he appeared to be entirely engrossed with the present.

"We gotta get the girl--that comes first," he decided. "Point is, where to search?" The old man could not help them, but Gerry, gazing hopelessly around, uttered a cry:

"There's someone up on the Rockin' Stone."

"Reckon it's Paul," Snowy surmised. "The men went to the mine--all of 'em." Sudden led the way, and the big black soon outdistanced the other horses. When the incline became too acute, he slid from the saddle, trailed the reins, and began to climb.

His appearance on the scene drew an oath of disappointment from Paul's lips. Mary saw him stoop, strike a match and light something; then he straightened up and clutched her arm.

"Hurry," he ordered.

She tried to free herself. "No, I won't go--I am tired--I cannot," she pleaded.

"You little fool, it's death to stay here," he raged, and clenching his fist, struck her pitilessly on the temple. With a snarl of a wild beast, he flung the limp, senseless form over a shoulder, and made for the ledge he had noticed on his first visit to the place.

It was at this moment that Sudden, who had reached the slope which faced the mine, caught a glimpse of him, and as he appeared to be heading tor the tar side of the hill, decided that to cross the slope would save a few precious seconds.

He was no more than half way when a deafening explosion boomed out above his head and he saw the great stone leave its base and bend over towards him; for a fraction of a moment it seemed to hover in the air before crashing down on the hillside. Sudden, directly in its path, knew that only a miracle of speed could prevent his being pounded to pulp in that awful mill. With desperate leaps he strove to reach the other side of the incline, one mis-step on the slippery surface of which spelt quick but agonizing death. The growl of the oncoming avalanche drummed in his ears, growing louder, but he dared not even look--his eyes were all for the spots where he must set his feet. Pebbles and small rocks, forerunners of the annihilation to come, hurled past and over him.

The ground shook as with an earthquake and the rolling thunder was very near when, with bursting lungs, he forced his aching muscles to a final effort and flung himself headlong on to a strip of grass. A boulder, weighing at least a ton, leapt over his supine body, and a second later, with a horrible grating, ripping roar, the mighty mass which had been the Rocking Stone swept by, only a few feet from where he lay.

Down in the mine, he could see four fear-stricken figures frantically striving to reach the exit, and knew--from experience--that they were doomed. Breathlessly he saw the wave of stone hit the lip of the hollow, rear up, split, and hurl itself forward to fall with dull grinding crashes. They ceased, and all that remained of the hollow was a welter of jagged granite, resembling the surface of a tiny tempestuous sea suddenly frozen into stillness. From it a cloud of fine dust rose like a smoke into the sunlit air.

A mad laugh of triumph rang out. Fifty yards above the cowboy stood Paul Lesurge; he had been unable to tear himself away without witnessing the fulfilment of his vengeance.

Sudden saw him vanish with his burden and darted in pursuit. He reached the spot on which the madman had been standing and stepped swiftly along the narrow, treacherous way. On one side was the vertical breast of the hill, on the other a sheer drop as though the cliff had been sliced away with a giant axe.

Grim, relentless, the puncher strode the perilous path, intent only on his task--to deliver Mary Ducane and destroy the devil who had brought about the havoc he had just so narrowly escaped himself. He had no pity for the crushed and mangled man ruffians in the mine, but the man who had wrought their ruindeserved to die. In a moment he came upon him; round a bend Lesurge was waiting, revolver levelled, and he laughed when Sudden appeared.

"Stop, cowboy, I've got you covered," he called sharply.

Completely taken by surprise, for he had not expected to run down his quarry so soon, the puncher had to obey. Lesurge surveyed him with sinister satisfaction.

"Now we can talk in comfort," he resumed. "But first, lest you contemplate trickery, I must warn you of another possibility." He pointed to the still unconscious girl lying at his feet, almost on the brink of the abyss. "One movement on my part, a stumble or fall, due to my being shot, shall we suppose? and she will wake in Paradise."

"She'd be far enough from yu there, anyways," Sudden retaliated. He had at once divined the reason for the girl's precarious position. "Yu'll wake in hell."

"I shall send you there first," Lesurge promised. "Up to now you have taken all the tricks but I win the game. Fagan and his brood fancied they had finished with me when they took my rifle and left me only--giant powder. Fools! to pit their puny wits against mine. You, cowboy, thought the same, and see, I hold the aces."

"Havin' destroyed the stakes," Sudden reminded him dryly.

He was wondering whether the others would arrive in time. He had been far ahead of them, and they could not have seen which way he had gone. If he could keep the maniac talking.

"No, the stakes are in my hands, or rather, at my feet," Lesurge went on. "I know you have taken a great deal of gold from the mine, and with the girl in my possession, I can make my own terms." Sudden was about to reply when a shout of "Jim" came from somewhere behind and he swore between his clenched teeth; Gerry could not know he Was hastening his partner's end. Lesurge was instantly on the alert.

"You are relying on your friends?" he said. "Well, they will come too late. I am about to kill you." The threatened man looked steadily at him. "Shucks, yu'll miss," he taunted, hoping to gain time.

"Then I'll try again," was the retort. "You can do nothing; a shot person falls forward, and the lovely lady . . ." He laughed hideously. Then his face became rigid. "Now, you double-crossing dog." Hate darted from his eyes, his body quivered with the lust to slay, but the pointed pistol might have been held in a vice. Sudden found himself wondering where the bullet would strike him? He saw the finger pressing the trigger. In another second ...

"Paul!" The murderer started. The voice came from behind him, and harsh, unlike as it was, he recognized it. Lora! What cursed freak of Fate had brought her there? She was but a few feet away, and he had wronged and insulted her vilely. If she had come for revenge, he was between two fires. He must persuade her.

Keep away, Lora," he urged. "This fellow may hit you."

"I am coming to you, my husband," she replied. "We will die together, Paul; you would wish that, I know." The full extent of his peril dawned upon him as he listened. Her brain had given way, and in her mad mood, she would drag him over the precipice. And she cared for Green .. .

"There is no question of dying, Lora," he said. "I was angry last night, but I did not mean it. We are going to be rich and happy ..."

"You were always a clever liar, Paul." The hard laugh made him shiver; it proclaimed her purpose; her hot Southern blood would never forgive. He thought frenziedly. Sudden dared not shoot. If ... He stepped back a pace lest the still form at his feet might hamper him, whirled and fired. He saw the woman stagger, pitch sideways, and flash past him into the depths. That was his last sight on earth, for as he swung round, Sudden's bullet crashed into his brain. Headlong he plunged after the woman he had slain, the skirts of his back coat flapping like the wings of a bird of prey.

Smoking gun in hand, Sudden leant against the cliff, a clammy wetness on his brow. Then he saw the unconscious girl move, but ere he could get to her, someone sprang past him and lifted her in his arms. She opened her eyes, and there was no mistaking the message in them.

"Oh, Gerry, thank God it's you," she murmured, and her head sank contentedly on his shoulder.

They passed the puncher as though he had not been there, and the proud light on the boy's face was something to see. Sudden's own gaze rested on a point farther along the ledge, his harsh expression softened, and with something like a sigh, he holstered his weapon and went to meet his friends.

*** Later, the bodies of Lesurge and his victim were found and buried; the woman had been shot through the heart and the fall had not marred her beauty. Sudden wrapped her in hisown blanket, laid her gently in the grave, and turned away. He had been drilled in a hard school, but he was young and Mary Ducane did not arrive till all was over, Gerry having--at Sudden's suggestion--contrived that they should fall behind. On the way he asked the lover's inevitable question and got the age-old answer.

"From the first day, but I was--dazzled," the girl confessed shyly. "I think I really knew that time you bullied me--in the street." Gerry's grin was graceless. "I shore declared myself," he chuckled.

"Did you--mean it?" she asked, almost inaudibly. His reply left her breathless.

It was a quiet but contented company round the camp-fire when the shadows gathered. Rogers was the first to break the silence.

"Place looks kind o' lonesome without the of Rockin' stone. I had a peek at the mine; I figure she's a total loss."

"Not for us, thanks to Jim," Snowy said. "There oughta be a grubstake for each of us, eh, Mary?" The girl looked up; she was sitting next to him, and very close to Gerry. It was evident that her mind had not been on such a mundane matter as money.

"Whatever there is will be equally divided, of course," she replied.

Protest greeted her decision; she was not being fair to herself, and they would not hear of it. In vain she pleaded that they had done everything, and she nothing. Jacob alone took no part in the discussion, listening with a smiling interest. Presently he said quietly:

"Might I suggest that this is a matter for the owner of the mine to settle?" They stared at him in amaze, all save the prospector, upon whom his eyes were fixed. "Come, Ducane, don't you think you've played 'possum long enough?" The old man bent forward, his bright little eyes scanning the other closely. "Never met up with anybody o' yore name," he muttered.

"But you knew a Jake Holway at the Bluebird diggings in California." Snowy straightened. "The Professor," he said.

Jacob nodded. "I was almost fresh from college and my manner of speech earned me the title. And you were `Mad Phil'--willin' to take any chance, even in those wild days. I recognized you in Deadwood, but a man usually has a reason for hiding his identity." Mary slid an arm round the old man's shoulders. "I'm so glad, Uncle Phil," she whispered, "but it doesn't make a bit of difference--really."

"I s'pose I gotta own up, though I was meanin' to let the cards go as they lay," Snowy told them. "You see, back at Wayside--where nobody knowed my real name--I was waitin' for my brother. Lesurge. shows up an' goes nosin' round for Philip Ducane. Me bein' of a suspicious nature, he don't find him. When, later, he puts his proposition to me, a fella don't need more'n hoss-sense to savvy the game. Fagan had got wind o' my letter, tried for it, an' failed, George--who used to be a careless cuss 'bout his own affairs--havin' destroyed it." He paused and looked at the girl.

"Yes, it was my idea," she admitted. "I was afraid of ..."

"So they had to plan different," Snowy went on hurriedly. "Fagan tags along with Mary to Wayside, where Lesurge takes charge. Havin' made shore--as he believes--that Philip Ducane ain't around, he hits on the dodge o' puttin' up a dummy, an' he certainly picked the right man." His eyes twinkled. "Well, I agreed to pertend to be myself. It warn't easy, 'specially when I found what a sweet--" Gerry lost the hand he had been holding; it went to close the speaker's mouth.

"Yu done a good job," Sudden grinned. "I dunno as I'll ever believe yu any more. Took us all in, 'cept Jacob, an' he's a clam."

"What a man calls himself, that's his business," the gold-dealer defended. "I too was sailing under false colours."

"I didn't suspect, but--after the exposure--I wondered how you knew T resembled my mother," Mary said softly.

"I near slipped up there," Snowy confessed. "Lesurge wondered too. I had to explain that it was a compliment any girl would 'preciate. I got full marks from him for that. But it happened to be true." I dunno as I'll ever believe you any more either," she told him, and her mimicry of the puncher made them all laugh.

"I reckon you know the rest," the old man continued. "I let Paul play his game while I collected a few friends to help me beat it. He smiled round on them. "I'm sayin' no man ever got better, an' it was a durn' good day for us when Jim drifted into Wayside." A chorus of approval greeted the statement, but the recipient of the praise might have been sitting on a cactus.

"Shucks," he said. "If yo're all goin' to talk foolish, I'm turn-in' in."

"There's one thing we have to decide," Jacob reminded. "What are we to tell Deadwood?" No one spoke, but all eyes went to the man upon whom they instinctively relied for leadership. The cowboy did not fail them. -

"Anybody honin' to go back there?" he asked, and getting no response, went on, "Explanations would shorely be--difficult. Why not head for Laramie? There's a risk o' runnin' into redskins but we're well-armed an' mounted; I guess we can get through." So it was decided.

* * * The note was addressed to Gerry, and he knew instantly that he had lost a friend. The journey from the Rocking Stone had been safely accomplished, and by the time it ended, plans for the future made. Snowy, Mason and Mary were travelling East in search of a ranch, and the others were going with them, for a while, at least. Sudden only, would give no promise. The missive was brief: DEAR GERRY, This is to tell yu all good-bye. I couldn't face it, so I've played coward an' run away. I ain't wishin' yu happiness--. yo're takin' it with yu. Good Luck.

JIM

"01' son-of-a-gun," the boy muttered. "I'm shore proud to 'a' knowed you."

* * *

Miles out of Laramie, as the climbing sun painted the sky red and gold, a rider on a big black horse loped steadily southward. The air was sharp and laden with the pungent breath of the pine-trees. The grass was gem-studded with dew. Birds chirped and whistled in the branches overhead, rabbits scudded away at his approach, and once, a grateful doe crashed into the undergrowth and turned to gaze, with startled, gentle eyes, at the strange intruder on her solitude.

The rider noticed none of these things. He was visioning a different scene; a woman, young and lovely, curled up on a bed of dead leaves, a cheek pillowed on one palm, a half-smile on her rosy lips, asleep in the wilderness, while he watched.

THE END