“I never see such gold, and me an old-timer in the mines.”  It was Steve Jarrold muttering.  “It’s like they’d took clean gold down to the mint and rolled it and lumped it into nuggets. This was broke off the mother lode.  Oh, my Gawd!”

Gloria made another quiet step—­and another.  Still no one saw her.  If she could only make half a dozen more steps before these men awoke from the first moments of a spell that had made them oblivious of everything on earth except that little heap of rock!  Another step; she went quicker; their backs were toward her.  And still no one saw.  Yes, Gratton alone had seen.  She made a quick frightened gesture.  His jaw sagged open; he watched her with bulging eyes.  She could read his thought so plainly:  he was thinking of his own ultimate chances for life, he was screwing up his courage to make a dash for the open himself.  His eyes followed her step by step.  Oh, if only he would look in some other direction!  If any one of them saw Gratton’s tell-tale face——­

Then Gratton began a slow withdrawal from the others; he meant to do as he saw her doing.

“Heavy laka hell,” the Italian was saying.  “Justa da gold do that!”

“Give me that, Tony,” snarled Brodie.  He snatched the mass from the other’s hands.  “That’s the biggest nugget any man living ever saw.”

Gloria tasted the clean fresh outside air; she was within three paces of the line of snow.  Then there was a sudden noise; Gratton, inching off backward, had stumbled over a dead stick.  The men by the fire were startled out of their oblivion.  Steve Jarrold, the one nearest Gloria, swung about, saw her, dropped what was in his hands, and lunged towards her.  She made a dash for the exit.  In two great strides Jarrold was upon her and had caught her by the shoulders, dragging her back.  And Gratton stood again, his feet glued to the ground; she could see the flash of his teeth gnawing at his fingers.

“Trying to make a sneak for it!” boomed Brodie.  “I’ll show you——­”

“Not yet, Brodie, you big fool!” yelled Benny.  “This is only a sackful, and not full at that.  It’s the rest of it we’re after—­the whole lousy mess.  He’s got to show us where this come from.”

“I am not trying to get away,” said Gratton, though his tone did not convince.  “Haven’t I made good already?  Haven’t I kept my promise?  Am I not ready to do whatever I can?”

“Talk’s cheap,” retorted Brodie.  “Get busy, then.”

Gratton, struggling already in the meshes of the net drawing ever tighter about him, pointed to Gloria with shaking finger.  He swallowed twice and moistened his lips to speak.

“King found it first.  She was with him.  I made her show me the sack of gold.  I was going to go back to your camp, to tell you——­”

“Cut it,” commanded Brodie.  “Leave out the lies and talk straight and fast.  Where is the rest of it?  Where did this come from?”