only by the
concentration of every ounce of his will. Peter felt himself clutching
the rope so hard that he could think of nothing, absolutely nothing,
else. He proved a great necessity of letting go.

And for her, these years? What had they meant? By the internal
combustion which had so suddenly lighted up the dark corners of his
being, he saw with almost clairvoyant distinctness how it must have
been. He saw her growing older, as he had grown older, but in the dull
apathy of monotony. She had none of this great filling Labour wherewith
to drug herself into day-dreams of a future. The seasons as they passed
showed her the same faces, growing ever a little more jaded, as dancers
in the light of dawn. Perhaps she had ceased counting them? No, he knew
better than that. But the pity of it! washing, scrubbing, mending;
mending, scrubbing, washing to the time of an invalid's complaints.
To-day she was doing as she had done yesterday; to-morrow she would do
the same. To-morrow?

"No, by God!" cried Peter, starting to his feet. "There shall be no more
to-morrow!"

He took from the shelf over the window a number of pieces of quartz,
which he stuffed into the pockets of a pair of saddle-bags lying near
the door. In the corral was Jenny, a sleek, fat mare. He saddled Jenny
and departed with the saddle-bags, leaving the door of his cabin open to
the first comer, as is the hospitable Western way.

At Beaver Dam he spread the chunks of rock out on the bar of the
principal saloon and invited inspection. He did not think to find a
purchaser among the inhabitants of Beaver Dam, but he knew that the
tidings of his discoveries would arouse interest and attract other
prospectors to the locality of his claims. In this manner his property
would come prominently on the market.

The discoveries certainly were accorded attention enough. Peter was well
known. Men were perfectly sure of his veracity and his mining instinct.
If Peter said there existed a good lode of the stuff he exhibited to
them, that settled it.

"Hum," said a man named Squint-eye Dobs, after examining a bit of the
transparent crystal through which small kernels of yellow metal shone.
Then he laid down the specimen, and walked quietly out the door without
further comment. He had gone to get his outfit ready.

To others, not so prompt of action, Peter explained at length, always in
that hesitating, diffident voice of his.

"I have my claims all staked," said he; "you