It's north of here and easier. But we save forty or fifty miles
this way."

There had been a recent discovery of gold at a little place called
Ruminoff Shanty, newly named Gold River. This, lying still eighty
miles to the north, was Drennen's objective point. The old rumour had
come to him a shade more definite this time. In the crowd pushing
northward had been three men and a woman, one of the men looked like a
Mexican and the woman was young and of rare beauty. But that had not
been all. A man named Kootanie George with another man wearing the
uniform of the Royal Northwest Mounted had followed them. These had
all gone by the beaten trail; Drennen saw that if he came before
Kootanie George and Max to the four he sought he must take his chances
with the short cut.

The next night they camped at the upper end of the fourth of the string
of little lakes. And that evening they saw, far off to the westward,
the faint hint of smoke against the early stars, the up-flying sparks,
which spoke of another campfire upon the crest of the ridge.

The old man bent his penetrating gaze upon his son. Drennen's face, as
usual, was impassive.

"My boy," said Sothern very gently, "you are sure that you have made no
mistake? The girl is no better than her companions?"

"They merely kill a man for his gold," returned Drennen steadily. "She
plays with a man's soul and kills it when she has done."

There were deep lines of sadness about Sothern's mouth; the eyes which
forsook Drennen's face and turned to the glitter of the stars were
unutterably sad.

"The sins of the father . . ." he muttered. Then suddenly, an electric
change in the man, he flung himself to his feet, his hands thrown out
toward his son.

"By God! Dave," he cried harshly; "they're not worth it! Let them go!
We can turn off here where the world is good because men haven't come
into it. The mountains can draw the poison out of a man's heart, Dave.
There is room for the two of us, boy, for you and me on a trail of our
own. Leave them for Max and Kootanie George. . . . Come with me. Do
you hear me, Dave, boy? We don't need the world now we've . . . we've
got each other!"

Drennen shook his head.

"I've got my work to do," he said quietly. "I think it'll be done soon
now. And then . . . then we'll go away together, Dad. Just the two of
us."

CHAPTER XX

THE FIRES WHICH PURIFY

The camp fire which the two men had seen had not been tha