of the camp, his own dugout. She thought that he
was going to stop at his cabin; then she saw that he had passed on.
She had suspected that the man was delirious with the fever upon him;
that his brain had reeled from the impact of the blows showered upon it
and had staggered from its throne. Now the suspicion came to her that
Drennen had come to her in his cups; that the thing which had loosened
his tongue and distorted his vision was nothing more nor less than
whiskey.

He was lurching as he walked, but bearing on swiftly. She had not been
mistaken when she had thought that he had turned in toward his cabin.
But in this his action had been involuntary. He had reeled, had paused
as he caught and steadied himself, had gone on drunkenly.

There were a score of men up and down the short street. Already some
of them had marked his coming. Ygerne turned hurriedly to the left,
put the line of houses between her and the street, passing back doors
quickly on her way to Pere Marquette's.

Only once did Drennen stop. He ran his hand across his eyes as though
to brush away some filmy fogginess of vision. There was impatience in
the gesture. With a little grunt of satisfaction he went on. He had
seen both Lemarc and Sefton talking with other men half way up the
street.

As he passed Joe's he was lurching more and more, his walk grown
markedly unsteady. His eyes were flaming and growing red; his face was
splotched with colour, hot, angry colour; he was muttering to himself,
little broken, feverish, illogical outpourings of the seething passion
within him. He passed three men who were lounging and smoking. He did
not turn his eyes toward them. They were the three big mining men,
Madden and Hasbrook and Sothern. They saw him, their eyes following
him quickly, each man with his own personal interest.

"Drunk, eh?" laughed Charlie Madden. "Suppose we draw straws to see
who takes him in tow!"

Hasbrook's sharp featured face grew shrewd in speculation, his tongue
clicking nervously. Marshall Sothern's shaggy brows lowered a bit;
Madden and Hasbrook had looked from Drennen to each other and to him;
he alone kept his eyes hard upon the man making his way with unsteady
stubbornness up the street.

When a man stood in his way Drennen thrust out his arm, pushing him
aside. His eyes grew ever the more terrible with the madness of the
rage upon him, bloodshot and menacing. They lost Lemarc and Sefton,
wandered uncert