He had fetched down a nugget from the “Laughing Water” claim, a bright lump of virgin gold, rudely fashioned by nature like a heart.  This he took at once to a jeweler’s shop, where more fine diamonds were being sold than in all the rest of the State, and while it was being soldered to a pin he returned to the hay-yard for Dave.  His business was to purchase the mare on which, one beautiful morning when the wild peach was in bloom, Beth Kent had ridden by his side.  Dave would have given him the animal out of hand.  Van compelled him to receive a market price.  Even ponies here were valuable, and Dave had been poor all his life.

“Say, Van,” he drawled, when at length the transaction was complete, “this camp has set me to thinkin’.  It’s full of these rich galoots, all havin’ an easy time.  If ever I git a wad of dough I’m comin’ here and buy five dollars worth of good sardines and eat ’em, every one.  Never have had enough sardines in all my life.”

“I’d buy them for you now and sit you down,” said Van, “only why start a graveyard with a friend?”

Some woman who had come and gone from Goldite had disposed of a beautiful side saddle, exposed in the hay-yard to the weather.  Van paid fifty dollars and became its owner.  The outfit for Beth was soon complete.  He ordered the best of feed and attention for her roan—­bills to be rendered to himself—­and hastening off to the jeweler’s, found his pin ready and reposing in a small blue box.  Avoiding a number of admiring friends, he slipped around a corner, and once more appeared at Mrs. Dick’s.

Beth was in the dining-room, alone.  Her papers were spread upon the table.  She was flushed with the day’s excitements,

Van had entered unannounced.  His active tread upon the carpet of the hall had made no sound.  When he halted in the doorway, transfixed by the beauty of the face he saw reflected in the sideboard mirror opposite, Beth was unconscious of his presence.

She was busily gathering up her documents.  Her pretty hands were moving lightly on the table.  Her eyes were downcast, focused where she worked.  Only the wondrous addition of their matchless brown, thought Van, was necessary to complete a picture of the most exquisite loveliness he had ever beheld.

He had come there prepared to be sedate—­at least not over-bold again, or too presumptuous.  Already, however, a riot of love was in his veins.  He loved as he fought—­with all his strength, with a tidal impetuosity that could scarcely understand resistance or imagine defeat.  To restrain himself from a quick descent upon her position and a boyish sweeping of her up in his powerful arms was taxing the utmost of his self-control.  Then Beth glanced up at the mirror.

The light of her eyes seemed to liquify his heart.  He felt that mad, joyous organ spread abruptly, throughout his entire being.

She rose up suddenly and turned to greet him.