He turned to Joanne.  The pressure of her hand was warmer on his arm.  Her beautiful eyes were glowing, and her red lips parted as she waited breathlessly for him to go on.

“And yet, we’re going to a place where you can scoop gold up with a shovel,” he finished.  “That’s the funny part of it.”

“It isn’t funny—­it’s tremendous!” gasped Joanne.  “Think of what a man like you could do with unlimited wealth, the good you might achieve, the splendid endowments you might make——­”

“I have already made several endowments,” interrupted Aldous.  “I believe that I have made a great many people happy, Ladygray—­a great many.  I am gifted to make endowments, I think, above most people.  Not one of the endowments I have made has failed of complete success.”

“And may I ask what some of them were?”

“I can’t remember them all.  There have been a great, great many.  Most conspicuous among them were three endowments which I made to some very worthy people at various times for seven salted mines.  I suppose you know what a salted mine is, Ladygray?  At other times I have endowed railroad stocks which were very much in need of my helping mite, two copper companies, a concern that was supposed to hoist up pure asbestos from the stomach of Popocatapetl, and a steamship company that never steamed.  As I said before, they were all very successful endowments.”

“And how many of the other kind have you made?” she asked gently, looking down the trail.  “Like—­Stevens’, for instance?”

He turned to her sharply.

“What the deuce——­”

“Did you succeed in getting the new outfit from Mr. Curly?” she asked.

“Yes.  How did you know?”

She smiled at the amazement which had gathered in his face.  A glad, soft light shone in her eyes.

“I guess Mrs. Otto has been like a mother to that poor little boy,” she explained.  “When you and Mr. Stevens went up to buy the outfit this morning Jimmy ran over to tell her the news.  We were all there—­at breakfast.  He was so excited he could scarcely breathe.  But it all came out, and he ran back to camp before you came because he thought you wouldn’t want me to know.  Wasn’t that funny?  He told me so when I walked a little way up the path with him.”

“The little reprobate!” chuckled Aldous.  “He’s the best publicity man I ever had, Ladygray.  I did want you to know about this, and I wanted it to come to you in just this way, so that I wouldn’t be compelled to tell you myself of the big and noble act I have done.  It was my hope and desire that you, through some one else, would learn of it, and come to understand more fully what a generous and splendid biped I am.  I even plotted to give this child of Stevens’ a silver dollar if he would get the news to you in some one of his innocent ways.  He’s done it.  And he couldn’t have done it better—­even for a dollar.  Ah, here we are at the cabin.  Will you excuse me while I pick up a few things that I want to take on to Tete Jaune with me?”