sh at the counter that Joe couldn't let him go sooner. Drennen
cursed him and drove him out, asking no questions.

The human tide sweeping into the Settlement rose steadily during the
afternoon. A street which had been deserted twenty-four hours ago was
now jammed from side to side. Drennen came to understand dully as the
day wore on that there could be but one explanation; a rush like this
meant that some fool had dropped his pick into a vein of gold and word
of it had flashed across the mountains. Even then, his pain and
exhaustion and giddy sickness were such that he did not realise that he
himself was to thank for the pouring of hundreds of men into MacLeod's.

When at last the true explanation did dawn upon him he reached out for
his pipe, stuffed the bowl full of his tobacco and leaned back upon his
bunk, his eyes frowning, his lips hard about his pipe stem. So, silent
and brooding, he waited, knowing that it was to expect too much of
human endurance to think that they would let him alone much longer.

The first man to visit him thrust through the doorway unceremoniously
and coming straight to Drennen's side said bluntly, "I am Madden,
Charles Madden of the Canadian Mining Company. Maybe you've heard of
me?"

Drennen eyed him insolently, taking stock of the fresh cheeks, the keen
blue eyes, the square, massive, masterly jaw, the assertive air, the
clothing which was civilisation's conventional garb and which in the
matter alone of heavy laced boots made concession to the mountains.
The man was young, perhaps had not yet gotten into his thirties, and
none the less had already that dominance of personality belonging to a
seasoned captain of industry. Drennen, drawing at his pipe, maintained
his silence.

"Well?" demanded Charlie Madden.

He whipped at one gloved hand with the gauntlet he held in the other
and stared at Drennen impatiently. He had just arrived and had made no
delay in coming to the dugout; Drennen noted the dust of his ride upon
his face, the spurs still upon his boots. The atmosphere he bore with
him was one of business urgency.

"Damn it, man," snapped Madden, "I've got something else to do besides
smother in your hovel. I'm here to talk business."

He flung himself into the solitary chair in the one-room place, jerked
his head about, saw that the door was open, got up and closed it, and
came back to his chair. Drennen, eyeing him with steady hostility, did
not open his lips.