shallow little stream, there were left in the bottom of the
pan, as the last sifting bit of soil was washed out, some tiny bits of
yellow the size of a pin-head, and one as large as a grain of wheat.

'Tana gave a little ecstatic cry as she bent over it and touched the
particles with her finger.

"Oh, Dan--it is the gold!--the real gold! and we are
millionaires!--millionaires, and you would not believe it!"

He raised his finger warningly, and shook his head.

"Wait until we are millionaires before you commence to shout," he advised.
"It is a good show here--yes; but, after all, it may be only a chance
washing from hills far enough away. Show them to Harris, though; he may
be interested, though he appears to me very indifferent about the
matter."

"He don't seem to care," she agreed. "He just looks at us as though we
were a couple of children he had found a new plaything for. But don't you
think he looks brighter?"

"Well, yes; the river trip has done him good, instead of the harm the
Ferry folks prophesied. But you run along and show him the 'yellow,' and
don't draw the squaw's attention to it."

The squaw was wrapped neck and heels in a blanket, although the day was
one of the warmest of summer; and stretched asleep in the sun, she gave no
heed to the quick, light step of the girl.

Neither did Harris, at whose tent door she lay. He must have thought it
was the stoical, indifferent Indian, for he gave her a quick, startled
glance as he heard her surprised "Oh!" at the door. Then she walked
directly to him, lifted his right hand, and let go again. It fell on his
knee in the old, helpless way.

"But you did raise it," she said, accusingly. "I saw you as I came to the
door. You stretched out your hand."

He looked at her and nodded very slightly, then looked at his hand and
appeared trying to lift it; but gave up, and shook his head sadly.

"You mean you moved it a little once, but can't do it again?" she asked,
and he nodded assent.

"Oh, well, that's all right," she continued, cheerfully. "You are sure to
get along all right, now that you have commenced to manage your hands if
ever so little. But just at first, when I saw you, I had a mighty queer
notion come into my head. I thought you were getting over that stroke
faster than you let us know. But I'm too suspicious, ain't I? Maybe it's a
bad thing for folks to trust strangers too much in this world; but it is
just as bad for a girl to grow up where she