Howard studied the date on the fluttering paper and his mind ran back.

‘You sent that wire the day after I came back last time!’

‘And if I did?’ She met his look serenely.

‘You did so because you cared——­’

But Helen laughed at him, and again Danny, touched with a sudden spur, shot ahead down the trail.

They clattered like runaway children into the crooked rocky street of Sanchia’s Town.  Had their thoughts been less busied with themselves and with a hint of a rosy future and with the bigness of the thing which John Carr had done for them, they would have marked long ago that here something was amiss.  But it was only when they were fairly in the heart of the settlement that they stopped abruptly to stare at each other.  Now there was no misunderstanding what had happened!  Sanchia’s Town, that had been a busy, humming human hive no longer ago than yesterday was this morning still, deserted, empty and dead.  Those who had rushed hitherward seeking gold were gone; be the explanation where it might, shacks stood with doors flung wide; tents had been torn down, outworn articles discarded, dumped helter-skelter into the road.  The atmosphere was like that of a circus grounds when the circus was moving on, only a few things left for the last crew to come for.

‘It feels like a graveyard,’ whispered Helen.  ‘What has happened?’

‘The old story, I suppose.’  He turned sideways in the saddle, looking about him for a sign of remaining life.  ’It grew in the night; somehow it has pinched out; the bottom has dropped out of it.  Nate Kemble of Quigley bought up two or three claims; I’ve a notion the rest were worthless.  Anyway, like many another of its kind, Sanchia’s Town was born, has lived and died like old Solomon Gundy.’

Helen’s face was that of one in deep study.

‘Papa was saying only day before yesterday,’ she said thoughtfully, ’that this was going to happen.  He said that was why he hadn’t taken the trouble to make a fight for his rights here.  He said that Kemble had bought up all of the land that was worth anything; and that he, himself, had given Kemble the right tip.  It begins to look as though papa knew, doesn’t it?’

Howard nodded vigorously.

‘He knows gold mines and he knows gold signs,’ he said positively.  ‘I’ve felt that all along.  But——­’

‘But,’ she took the words out of his mouth, speaking hastily, ’he doesn’t know the first thing about people; about a woman like Sanchia Murray.  And now that he says he is going to locate his real mine and we are leaving him with her——­’

‘We mustn’t be away too long,’ he agreed.

’Look.  There’s some one down there at the lunch counter; at least there’s a little smoke from the stovepipe.  Shall we see who it is?’

It was love among the ruins.  Or, in other words, Yellow Barbee leaning halfway across the lunch counter, toward the roguish-eyed, plump maid who leaned slowly toward him.