He went down on his knees by the sack, got a heavy lump in his hands, rubbed at it, held it closer to the firelight, rubbed again more excitedly, and finally sat back, staring up at her with new flames of another sort leaping in his eyes.

“It’s next thing to solid gold!” he gasped.  “There are thousands—­thousands——­Millions!”

She looked at him and marvelled.  In his shallow soul no emotion lived long; greed of gold now obliterated the little ripples that another greed had fleetingly made.  How had she thought well of him down in the city?  How had she so much as tolerated him?  On the instant it struck her that there was small justice in Gratton reaping any reward, having done nothing to earn it.  “We have the things to move.  Come; hurry.”

“Why should we move, after all?” he demanded sharply.  “Now that I have got up here, why not stay?  There’s wood here; everything is fixed up after a fashion.  King would know where to send for us, and—­and those cursed dogs of Brodie’s would never think of looking up here, even if chance did lead them along the gorge.”

Gloria, recalling King’s warning, remembering Brodie’s brute face, said hastily: 

“Do you think there is any real danger that they will come this way?”

“I hope not,” he groaned.  “They couldn’t follow my trail if they tried to.  You see, I left them last night, as early as I dared; I struck out in a straight line down the slope; then I made a turn off to the side and along the ridge where there was but little snow.  By now all those tracks are wiped out, what with wind and new snow.  There’s nothing to lead them this way.”

“Then, if we go down quickly, if we get your bag of food and put out the fire down there, and come right back up, it won’t be very long before our tracks will be gone.  And we’ll not budge from here until help comes.  Come; let’s hurry.”

“Coming,” said Gratton.  “Yes; we must hurry.”

She went ahead and began to clamber down the cliffs.  Half-way down she wondered why he was not following.  She found a place where she could cling and look up.  Thus she was just in time to see him, standing at the mouth of the cave, clutching a heavy bag; he had been tying the mouth of it.  Now he cast it outward so that it fell, striking against the cliff-side, and then rolling and dropping to disappear at last in the snow-bank below.  And then he began, though hesitantly, to follow her.

“That’s one thing Mark King won’t get,” he announced with emphasis.  At last he stood beside her in the snow.  “No matter how the game breaks, whether he comes back or not, and no matter who gets away with the rest, that bagful is mine!  There’s a fortune in it, and it’s mine.”  He began tossing double handfuls of loose snow into the hole which the bag of gold had made.  “When I get a chance,” he muttered, “I’ll move it somewhere else.”

His avarice disgusted her.  Just now the thought of gold sickened.