“Wonder th’ little idiot didn’t miss his mail,” growled Arthur.

“Oh, I coaxes him on with th’ letters from his mammy and pappy.  They’s harmless enough.”

The three men fell into a discussion of various specimens of quartz which they took from their pockets, and, after what seemed to be an interminable time, arose and moved slowly down the hill.

The girl looked at her companion with wide-open eyes.  “Ben!” she gasped, “what have you done?”

“Made a fool of myself,” he responded curtly.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know.”

He knit his brows deeply.  She cast about for an expedient.

“I wish I knew more about mining!” she cried.  “I know there is some way to get legal possession of a claim by patenting it, but I don’t know how you do it.”

He did not reply.

“There must be some way out of this,” she went on, all alert.  “They haven’t done anything yet.  Why don’t you go down to camp and inquire?”

“Every man would be in the hills in less than an hour.  I couldn’t trust them,” he replied brusquely.

“Oh, I know!” she cried with relief.  “You must hunt up Jim.  He knows all about those things, and you could rely on him.”

“Jim?  What Jim?”

“Jim Fay.  Oh, that’s just it!  Run, Ben; go at once; don’t wait a minute!”

“I want nothing whatever to do with that man,” he said deliberately.  “He has insulted me at every opportunity.  He has treated me in a manner that was even more than insulting every time we have met.  If I were dying, and he had but to turn his head toward me to save me, I would not ask him to do so!”

“Oh, don’t be foolish, Ben!” cried she, wringing her hands in despair.  “Don’t let your pride stand in your way!  Do you not realize the disgrace this will be to you—­to lose all these rich claims just by carelessness?  Do you realize that it means something to me, for I have been the reason of that carelessness.  I know it!  Just this once, forget all he has done to you.  You can trust him.  Don’t be afraid of that.  Tell him that I sent you, if you don’t want to trust him on your own account——­” she broke off.  “Where are you going?” she asked anxiously.

“To do something,” he answered, shutting his teeth together with a snap.

“Will you see Jim?” she begged, following him to the edge of the Rock as he swung himself down the tree.

“No!” he said, without looking back.

After he disappeared—­in the direction of the Holy Smoke camp, as she noticed—­she descended rapidly to the ground and hurried, sobbing excitedly, away toward Spanish Gulch.  She was all alive with distress.  She had never realized until the moment of his failure how much she had loved this man.  Near the village she paused, bathed her eyes in the brook, and, assuming an air of deliberation and calmness, began making inquiries as to the whereabouts of Jim Fay.