he added. And he turned again to his contemplation
of the hills.

But Joan promptly recalled his wandering attention.

"You mean--the storm?" she demanded.

Buck nodded.

"That--an' the other."

"What--other?"

"The washout," he said.

Then, as he saw the look of perplexity in the wide violet eyes, he
went on to explain--

"You ain't heard? Why, there was a washout on Devil's Hill, where for
nigh a year they bin lookin' for gold. Y' see they knew the gold was
there, but couldn't jest locate it. For months an' months they ain't
seen a sign o' color. They bin right down to 'hard pan.' They wer'
jest starvin' their lives clear out. But they'd sank the'r pile in
that hill, an' couldn't bring 'emselves to quit. Then along comes the
storm, an' right wher' they're working it washes a great lump o' the
hill down. Hundreds o' thousands o' tons of rock an' stuff it would
have needed a train load of dynamite to shift."

"Yes, yes." Joan's eagerness brought her a step nearer to him. "And
they found----"

"Gold!" Buck laughed. "Lumps of it."

"Gold--in lumps!" The girl's eyes widened with an excitement which the
discovery of the precious metal ever inspires.

The man watched her thoughtfully.

"Why aren't you there?" Joan demanded suddenly.

"Can't jest say." Buck shrugged. "Maybe it's because they bin lookin'
fer gold, an'--wal, I haven't."

"Gold--in lumps!" Again came the girl's amazed exclamation, and Buck
smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Sure. An' they kind o' blame you for it. They sort o' fancy you
brought 'em their luck. Y' see it came when you got around their hut.
They say ther' wasn't no luck to the place till you brought it. An'
now----"

Joan's eyes shone.

"Oh, I'm so glad. I'm so glad I've brought them----"

But her expression of joy was never completed. She broke off with a
sharp ejaculation, and the color died out of her cheeks, leaving her
so ghastly pale that the man thought she was about to faint. She
staggered back and leant for support against the wall of the barn, and
Buck sprang to her side. In a moment, however, she stood up and
imperiously waved him aside.

There was no mistaking the movement. Her whole manner seemed to have
frozen up. The frank girlishness had died as completely as though it
had never been, and the man stood abashed, and at a loss for
understanding.

Now he saw before him a woman still beautiful, but a woman whose eyes
had lost every vestige of that happy light.