When the letter was finished he took it over to the roadhouse to mail, and then spent the rest of the afternoon upon the creek in an effort to learn, if possible, something about Frontier Samson.  But although he questioned all the miners he saw, not one could enlighten him in the least degree.  He thought that several looked at him curiously when he asked about the old prospector, and he wondered what they meant.

He spent some time far up the creek, and ate the lunch he had brought with him in a quiet place near the stream which flowed down the valley, and provided the necessary water for the sluice-boxes where the precious gold was washed out.  He enjoyed the seclusion, as it gave him an opportunity to think over what the editor had written, and also about Glen.  He intended to leave early the next morning for Glen West by way of Crooked Trail, and he knew that Glen would be waiting and eager to greet him.  Her face stood out clear and distinct in his mind, and he recalled the words she had spoken, and her charming manner.  His heart beat fast as he thought of her, and he believed that she loved him.  He chided himself for not pouring out his heart to her that evening as they stood by the side of the inland lake.  The expression in her eyes and the tone of her voice were those of a woman whose heart must be filled with love, so he reasoned.  Yes, he would speak to her just as soon as he reached Glen West.  The way would be short, for she was his guiding star, and he would speed swiftly to the one he loved.

It was dusk when he at length rose to his feet and started down the creek.  He did not hurry as he had the whole evening before him, and there was no one awaiting his coming.  But there would be someone tomorrow, and his heart thrilled, and his eyes shone with animation as he thought of the girl beyond the Golden Crest.

Part way down Big Draw valley, and on the left side, was a sharp break in the bank, where a small creek met the larger one.  This in ages past had evidently been a river, whose bed was now dry.  It was up this creek that the trail led out into the hills, the one that Reynolds had always taken when he went forth on his hunting expeditions.  The entrance to this draw was now wrapped in semi-darkness, for the high tree-clad banks shouldered toward each other, thus shutting out the dim light of departing day.

Reynolds reached this place, and with a glance up the trail which he would take in the morning, he had almost reached the opposite side, when, without a word of warning, a light was flashed into his eyes, and in an instant he was swept from his feet, hurled to the ground, and his arms securely bound.  He had no chance to defend himself, for everything happened so quickly.  There seemed to be quite a crowd of men holding him fast, some sitting upon his body, while others held his hands and feet.  Although He strained and struggled desperately to free himself, his efforts were of no avail, and he soon realised that he might as well reserve his strength for whatever lay ahead.