once
again upon his back he carried it down to the roadhouse, where he sold
it to Shorty, who had bargained with him the evening before for his
game of the day. It was much easier than toting it around to the
various tents and shacks, and selling it by the piece to the miners.
He made less, to be sure, but he was satisfied. In fact, he was
becoming tired of this business, and longed for something else,
especially since he had met Glen in the hills.

Several men had arrived at Big Draw that day, and had brought a number
of letters. One was for Reynolds, from his old friend, the editor. It
was a fatherly letter, full of interest for his welfare, and the hope
that he would soon return and enter upon the quest to find the missing
Henry Redmond.

"I cannot get this notion out of my mind," he wrote in conclusion. "It
is with me night and day since I talked it over with you. I believe
you are the person best fitted for the undertaking. Give up your
present wild-goose chase, and come home."

Reynolds smiled as he thrust the letter into his pocket, The editor
called his trip north a "wild-goose chase." He little knew that it was
a chase of a different kind, and the bird was a fascinating girl. "I
guess I shall have to tell Harmon that the bird I'm after is not a wild
goose, but a new species, found solely up here, and with only one known
specimen in existence. But I must write to him, anyway, and tell him
something about my doings and the life at Big Draw."

In an adjoining room men were playing cards. Reynolds entered and
stood watching them, especially Curly, who was deep in a game. He was
evidently losing heavily, and he was in a bad frame of mind. As
Reynolds stood and watched him, he began to wonder when the fellow had
first met Glen. Was it on the trail, or had Curly ventured beyond the
Golden Crest? It pleased him to know that the girl disliked the man,
and how she wished that the fog-bank had not lifted just when it did.
He longed to know what was in Curly's mind. Would he attempt to meet
the girl again? That he was capable of the basest villainy, he had not
the shadow of a doubt. Frontier Samson had told him as much, and the
old prospector apparently knew whereof he spoke. It was not safe for
Glen to travel alone among the hills, he mused. She was in danger of
meeting a worse brute than the raging grizzly she had encountered that
afternoon.

As Reynolds thought of these things he kept his e