an
Nights_. Without Marshall Haney, without the gold he brought, she could
never have even looked upon this scene. She would at this moment have
been standing inside her little counter at the Golden Eagle, selling
cigars to some brakeman or cowboy. Ed Winchell would be coming to ask
her, as usual, to marry him, and her mother would still be toiling in
the hot kitchen or be at rest in her grave. Did ever Aladdin's lamp
translate its owner farther or lift him higher? Was not her refusal to
be Marshall Haney's wife the basest ingratitude?

Not merely so, but the girl felt in herself potentialities not yet drawn
upon, unlimited capabilities leading towards the accomplishment of good.
Money had not merely the magic of exalting, educating, refining, and
ennobling the individual (herself); it had radiating, transforming power
for others. It could diffuse warmth like a flame, and send forth joy
like a bell. "With it I am safe, strong: I can help the poor. Without it
I am only a struggling girl, like millions of others, with no chance and
no power to aid those who suffer." But at this point her love re-entered
and her sense of right was confused. After all the heart ruled.

At the hotel entrance the head porter was waiting to help her out, and
the chauffeur, without a word or look of reminder, puffed away, secure
in the reputation Lucius had given to Haney. As she went to her room the
maid met her with gentle solicitude, and, after attending to her needs,
considerately withdrew, leaving her deep-sunk in troubled musing.

Up to the coming of Ben Fordyce she had accepted all that Haney gave her
as from one good friend to another. Once having satisfied herself that
the money was clean of any taint from gambling-hall and saloon, she had
not hesitated to use it. But now something was rising within her which
changed the current of her purpose. Haney was no longer before the bar
of her conscience; the soul under question was her own. Dimly, yet with
ever-growing definiteness, she saw the moment of decision approach. She
must soon decide whether to continue on the smooth, broad highway with
Haney, or to return to the mountain-trail from which he had taken her.

While still she sat sombrely looking out over the city's roofs,
Humiston's card was brought to her, and at the moment, in her loneliness
and doubt, he seemed like an old friend. "Tell him to come up," she
said, with instant cordiality, and her face shone with innocent pleasure