What would be the temper of this gold-frenzied army if thrown into quarantine within sight of their goal?  The impatient hundreds would have to lie packed in their floating prison, submitting to the foul disease.  Long they must lie thus, till a month should have passed after the disappearance of the last symptom.  If the disease recurred sporadically, that might mean endless weeks of maddening idleness.  It might even be impossible to impose the necessary restraint; there would be violence, perhaps mutiny.

The fear of the sickness was nothing to Dextry and Glenister, but of their mine they thought with terror.  What would happen in their absence, where conditions were as unsettled as in this new land; where titles were held only by physical possession of the premises?  During the long winter of their absence, ice had held their treasure inviolate, but with the warming summer the jewel they had fought for so wearily would lie naked and exposed to the first comer.  The Midas lay in the valley of the richest creek, where men had schemed and fought and slain for the right to inches.  It was the fruit of cheerless, barren years of toil, and if they could not guard it—­they knew the result.

The girl interrupted their distressing reflections.

“Don’t blame these men, sir,” she begged the captain.  “I am the only one at fault.  Oh!  I had to get away.  I have papers here that must be delivered quickly.”  She laid a hand upon her bosom.  “They couldn’t be trusted to the unsettled mail service.  It’s almost life and death.  And I assure you there is no need of putting me in quarantine.  I haven’t the smallpox.  I wasn’t even exposed to it.”

“There’s nothing else to do,” said Stephens.  “I’ll isolate you in the deck smoking-cabin.  God knows what these madmen on board will do when they hear about it, though.  They’re apt to tear you to shreds.  They’re crazy!”

Glenister had been thinking rapidly.

“If you do that, you’ll have mutiny in an hour.  This isn’t the crowd to stand that sort of thing.”

“Bah!  Let ’em try it.  I’ll put ’em down.”  The officer’s square jaws clicked.

“Maybe so; but what then?  We reach Nome and the Health Inspector hears of small-pox suspects, then we’re all quarantined for thirty days; eight hundred of us.  We’ll lie at Egg Island all summer while your company pays five thousand a day for this ship.  That’s not all.  The firm is liable in damages for your carelessness in letting disease aboard.”

“My carelessness!” The old man ground his teeth.

“Yes; that’s what it amounts to.  You’ll ruin your owners, all right.  You’ll tie up your ship and lose your job, that’s a cinch!”

Captain Stephens wiped the moisture from his brow angrily.

“My carelessness!  Curse you—­you say it well.  Don’t you realize that I am criminally liable if I don’t take every precaution?” He paused for a moment, considering.  “I’ll hand her over to the ship’s doctor.”