er their skins. It is never a good thing to taunt the dead! Ray had
spoken sheerly to frighten and shock them, thus revealing his own
fearlessness and strength; yet his voice rang louder than he had meant.
He had no desire for it to carry into the silver mystery of the night.

"The less you say about Hiram's brother the better," Neilson answered
sternly. "We've thrashed it out once to-night." He straightened as he
read the insolence, the gathering insubordination in the other's
contemptuous glance; and his voice lacked its old ring of power when he
spoke again. "Jumpin' claims is one thing and murder is another."

Ray, spurred on by the false strength of wickedness, drunk with his new
sense of power, was already feeling the first surge of deadly anger in
his veins. "I suppose if you had been doin' it, you'd let that old whelp
take back this claim, worth a quarter million if it's worth a cent. Not
if I know it. It was the only way--and the safe way too."

"Safe! What if by a thousandth chance some one would blunder on to that
body you left in the brush? What if some sergeant of mounted police
would say to his man, 'Go get Ray Brent!' Where would you be then?
You've always been a murderer at heart, Brent--but some time you'll slip
up--"

"Only a fool slips up. Don't think I didn't figure on everything. As you
say, there's not one chance in a thousand any one will ever find him. If
they do, there wouldn't be any kind of a case. Likely the old man hasn't
got a friend or relation on earth. I've searched his pockets--there's
nothing to tell who he is. We'll have our claim recorded soon, and it
would be easy to make him out the claim-jumper rather than us--"

"Wait just a minute before you say he ain't got any friends, or at least
acquaintances. That's what I came to see you about to-night." Neilson
paused, for the sake of suspense. "Beatrice came up to-night, as agreed,
and she had a prospector with her--and he knew old Hiram's brother."

A short, tense silence followed his words, and Ray stared into his cup.
It might be that just for an instant the reckless light went out of his
eyes and left them startled and glazing. Then he got to his feet. "Then
God Almighty!" he cried. "What you waiting for? Why don't you croak him
off before this night's over?"

"Wait, you fool, till you've heard everything," Neilson replied.
"There's no hurry about killing. As I told you, the less work of that
kind we do, the more chance we've g