“All by himself,” the girl repeated, again wondering at the drift of his questions.  “My help only extended as far as this place.  Peter used to fatten his stock right here and then run them down into Montana.  Down there no one knew where he came from, and so wonderfully is this place hidden that he was never traced.  There is only one approach to it, and that’s across the keg.  In winter that can be crossed anywhere, but no sane persons would trust themselves in the foothills at that time of year.  For the rest it can only be crossed by the secret path.  This valley is a perfectly-hidden natural road for illicit traffic.”

“Wonderful.”  The man permitted a smile to spread over his thin, eagle face.  “Peter’s supposed to have made a pile of money.”

“Yes, I guess Peter sunk a pile of dollars.  He hid his bills right here in the valley,” Jacky replied, smiling back into the indolent face before her.  Then her face became serious again.  “The secret of its hiding-place died with him—­it’s buried deep down in the reeking keg.”

“And you’re sure he died in the ’reeking keg’?” There was a sharp intonation in the question.  The matter seemed to be of importance in the story.

Jacky half started at the eagerness with which the question was put.  She paused for an instant before replying.

“I believe he died there,” she said at length, like one weighing her words well, “but it was never clearly proved.  Most people think that he simply cleared out of the country.  I picked up his hat close beside the path, and the crust of the keg had been broken.  Yes, I believe he died in the muskeg.  Had he lived I should have known.”

“But how comes it that Golden Eagle is still alive?  Surely Peter would never have crossed the keg on foot”

The girl looked perplexed for a moment.  But her conviction was plainly evident.

“No—­he wouldn’t have walked.  Peter drank some.”

“I see.”

“Once I saved him from taking the wrong track at the point where the path forks.  He’d been drinking then.  Yes,” with a quiet assurance, “I think he died in the keg.”

Her companion seemed to have come to the end of his cross-examination.  He suddenly rose from his seat.  The chattering of the ducks in the distance caused him to turn his head.  Then he turned again to the girl before him.  The indolence had gone from his eyes.  His face was set, and the firm pursing of his lips spoke of a determination arrived at.  He gazed down at the recumbent figure upon the ground.  There was something in his gaze which made the girl lower her eyes and look far out down the valley.

“This brother of yours—­he was tall and thin?”

The girl nodded.

“Am I right in my recollection of him when I say that he was possessed of a dark, dark face, lantern jaws, thin—­and high, prominent cheek-bones?”

“That’s so.”

She faced him inquiringly as she answered his eager questions.