He rolled a small barrel before the opening, smoothed the dislodged earth, replaced the pan with its treasure, and trusted that in the bustle of the early morning departure his partners might not notice any change.  Stopping before the bunk of Stacy he glanced at the sleeping man.  He was lying on his back, but breathing heavily, and his hands were moving towards his chest as if, indeed, his strange fancy of the golden incubus were being realized.  Demorest would have wakened him, but presently, with a sigh of relief, the sleeper turned over on his side.  It was pleasanter to look at Barker, whose damp curls were matted over his smooth, boyish forehead, and whose lips were parted in a smile under the silken wings of his brown mustache.  He, too, seemed to be trying to speak, and remembering some previous revelations which had amused them, Demorest leaned over him fraternally with an answering smile, waiting for the beloved one’s name to pass the young man’s lips.  But he only murmured, “Three—­hundred—­thousand dollars!” The elder man turned away with a grave face.  The influence of the treasure was paramount.

When he had placed one of the chairs against the unprotected door at an angle which would prevent any easy or noiseless intrusion, Demorest threw himself on his bunk without undressing, and turned his face towards the single window of the cabin that looked towards the east.  He did not apprehend another covert attempt against the gold.  He did not fear a robbery with force and arms, although he was satisfied that there was more than one concerned in it, but this he attributed only to the encumbering weight of their expected booty.  He simply waited for the dawn.  It was some time before his eyes were greeted with the vague opaline brightness of the firmament which meant the vanishing of the pallid snow-line before the coming day.  A bird twittered on the roof.  The air was chill; he drew his blanket around him.  Then he closed his eyes, he fancied only for a moment, but when he opened them the door was standing open in the strong daylight.  He sprang to his feet, but the next moment he saw it was only Stacy who had passed out, and was returning fully dressed, bringing water from the spring to fill the kettle.  But Stacy’s face was so grave that, recalling his disturbed sleep, Demorest laughingly inquired if he had been haunted by the treasure.  But to his surprise Stacy put down the kettle, and, with a hurried glance at the still sleeping Barker, said in a low voice:—­

“I want you to do something for me without asking why.  Later I will tell you.”

Demorest looked at him fixedly.  “What is it?” he said.

“The pack-mules will be here in a few moments.  Don’t wait to close up or put away anything here, but clap that gold in the saddle-bags, and take Barker with you and ‘lite’ out for Boomville at once.  I will overtake you later.”

“Is there no time to discuss this?” asked Demorest.