r
troubles, he would refuse my help."

"That is so," Thirlwell agreed. "There's a mystery about the capsize,
and I'm curious. You see, I met Strange's daughter and she believes in
the lode."

Father Lucien hesitated, and then went to a shelf.

"I will show you something," he said, and gave Thirlwell a small Russian
leather wallet. It was well made, but worn and stained as if it had been
soaked in water. "I found this when I undressed Driscoll," he went on.
"It is not a thing you would expect a rude prospector to carry. But I
found something else."

He held out a piece of broken stone and Thirlwell as he took it moved
abruptly. He knew something about ore and saw that the stone had come
from the same vein as the specimen Agatha had given him.

"I think Strange found the silver," Father Lucien said quietly.

Thirlwell knitted his brows. He had dark suspicions, but after all they
had no solid foundation, and he thought it best to copy the missionary's
reserve.

"We know Driscoll's character, and may have been mistaken about one
thing. Is it logical to imagine that such a man would feel afraid?"

"Fear sometimes comes without remorse," said Father Lucien.

"Superstitious fear, working on a brain disordered by liquor and
illness?"

"We will not argue about the proper name. It may be superstition, or
something greater. I believe that retribution follows the offense."

Thirlwell looked hard at the other. "Well, I doubt if we will ever know
the truth about Strange's death."

"It is possible," Father Lucien agreed. "Perhaps it is not important
whether we know or not. One thing is certain: if wrong has been done, it
will be made right, if not by the way we would choose, by another. I
think we may leave it there."

"We must," said Thirlwell dryly. "There is nothing else to do. In the
meantime, if I can't be useful, I'm going to sleep."

Day was breaking when he wakened and Father Lucien told him that
Driscoll was better, but would need careful nursing for a time.

"Then Scott must come to-night," Thirlwell replied. "I've had enough of
watching Steve, and don't mind admitting that your charity is greater
than mine."

When he reached the shack he told Scott nothing about what he had heard,
because he thought Father Lucien would sooner he did not. The latter
knew when to be silent and it would do no good to talk about the matter
unless something happened to throw a light upon the mystery. On the
whole, he was rel