ave given her a fine house, automobiles, beautiful
gowns, precious jewels, everything money can buy. Nothing would have
been too good to reward her weary months of waiting. And now----

Rising wearily to his feet, he threw some more wood on the fire, and
then snatching up a short steel pick, proceeded in the direction
opposite to that taken by Branigan. He soon reached the foothills, and
began work scraping the moss-covered rocks, striking deep into
boulders, turning over the soil, his eye watchful for a glimpse of
glittering gold particles.

He toiled for a couple of hours, till his hands were blistered and his
muscles ached. There was no sign of his companion. He hollered several
times at the top of his voice, but receiving no response, he concluded
that Bill, in his prospecting, had wandered farther away than he
intended. There was no reason for uneasiness. If he did not return
soon, he would go in search of him. As he toiled on mechanically, he
pondered:

Even if they were lucky and got out of this plight, it would be years
before he was on his feet again. He would not be able to support
himself, let alone a wife. It might be months, years before his luck
turned again. Would she wait?

Suddenly his brow darkened. He clenched his fist, and the veins on his
temple swelled up like whipcord. Had she waited? He remembered Bill's
scoffing words. Could it be true of Laura? Was she false to him? The
possibility of such a thing had never entered his head before, but now
he was tortured with the agonies and doubts of insensate, unreasoning
jealousy. Maybe she had found it harder than she anticipated. Compelled
to economize, deprived of luxuries that had become necessities, perhaps
she had repented her bargain and gone back to that scoundrel Brockton.
Possibly at that very moment she was in the broker's arms. The thought
was maddening. A cold sweat broke out all over him at the very thought
of it What would he do if he found her false? What would he do if he
found his happiness destroyed, the future a hopeless blank, his faith
in womankind forever shattered. There was only one thing to be done.
Stern justice--the swift, savage justice of the cold, desolate,
blizzard-swept plains. He would shoot them both, and himself afterward.

He ceased working, the pick fell from his nerveless hands. The hunger
pains were gnawing at his vitals. He felt dizzy and sick. A death chill
invaded his entire being. It suddenly grew dark; there