“Because old Hiram talked a little, half-delirious, before he died.  ’A quarter of a million,’ he kept saying.  ’Right there in sight—­a quarter of a million.’  If he really found that much stowed away in the rocks, that’s fifty or sixty apiece for you and Chan.”

Ray’s mind worked swiftly.  Sixty thousand apiece—­and that left one hundred and thirty thousand for their leader’s portion.  The old rage and jealousy that had preyed upon his mind so long swept over him, more compelling than ever.  “Go on,” he urged.  “What’s the rest of it?”

“The second thing is—­we’ll need some one to cook, and look after us, when we get up there.  Who should it be but Beatrice?  She wouldn’t want to stay here; you know how she loves the woods.  And if you know anything about girls, you know that nothing counts like having ’em alone.  There wouldn’t be any of the other boys up there to trouble you.  You’d have a clear field.”

Ray’s dark eyes shone.  “It’d help some,” he admitted.  “That means—­hunt up an extra horse for her to-morrow.”

“No.  I don’t intend she should come up now.  Not till we’re settled.”

“Why not?”

“Think a minute, and you’ll see why not.  You know how she regards this business of jumping claims.  She’s dead against it if any one could be—­bless her heart!”

“Don’t go getting sentimental, Neilson.”

“And don’t let that mouth of yours get you into trouble, either.”  Once more their eyes locked:  once more Ray looked away.  “I hope she’ll always stay that way, too.  As I say, she’s dead against it, and she’s been a little suspicious ever since that Jenkins deal.  Besides, it wouldn’t be any pleasure for her until we find a claim and get settled.  When she comes up we’ll be established in a couple of cabins—­one for her and me and one for you two—­and she won’t know but that we made the original find.”

“How will she know just where to find us?”

“We’re bound to be somewhere near that old cabin on the Yuga.  We’ll set a date for her to come, and I can meet her there.”

It was, Ray was forced to admit, a highly commendable scheme.  He sat back, contemplating all its phases.  “It’s slick enough,” he agreed.  “It ought to do the trick.”

But if he had known the girl’s thoughts, as she sat alone in the back part of the house, he wouldn’t have felt so confident.  She was watching the moon over the spruce forest, and she was thinking, with repugnance in her heart, of the indignity to which she had been subjected at her father’s door.  Yet the kisses Ray had forced on her were no worse than his blasphemy of her dreams.  The spirit of romance was abroad to-night—­in the enchantment of the moon—­and she was wistful and imaginative as never before.  This was just the normal expression of her starved girlhood—­the same childlike wistfulness with which a Cinderella might long for her prince—­just as natural and as wholesome and as much a part of youth as laughter and happiness.