orrible situation which would arise if they
died!' He shuddered. Then he turned to Howard and extended his hand.
His voice shook slightly as he said hurriedly: 'Old chap, don't think
that I don't appreciate what you have attempted for us; it was quite
the most amazingly splendid thing I ever heard of! But now, with
matters as they stand, there is nothing for us to do but withdraw. Let
them have the mine; it is blood-stained and ill-starred. I wouldn't
have a thing to do with it if they returned it to me.'

'But, papa,' cried Helen hotly, 'just think! They have stolen it from
us, they have tried to murder----'

'My dear,' cut in Longstreet sternly, 'I trust that you will say
nothing further about it. I have made up my mind; I am a man of the
world and an older and cooler mind than you. Leave this to me.'

Howard heard her deep breath, slowly drawn, slowly expelled, and saw
her face looking white and tense; he knew that her teeth were set, that
her heart was filled with rebellion. But she made no answer, knowing
the futility of mere words to move her father in his present mood.
Instead, she turned away from him and looked out across the gulch along
both banks of which the fires were now raging. Nor did she turn again
while Monte and True were placed in the saddles which were to carry
them to the camp.

'A moment, Mr. Longstreet,' said Howard, as they were starting. 'Am I
to understand that you absolutely refuse to make a fight for your own
rights?'

'In this particular instance, absolutely!' said Longstreet emphatically.

'Then,' pursued Howard, 'I have a suggestion to make. We are all
friends here: suppose that each one of us stakes out a claim just
adjoining the ones you have lost. Certainly they might have some
value.'

But Longstreet shook his head impatiently.

'I am through with the whole mess,' he declared, waving his hands. 'I
won't have a thing to do with it, and I won't allow Helen to touch it.
Further, the other claims would have no value in my eyes; the spot that
has been stolen from me is the only spot in the gulch that I would give
a dollar for. Come on, Helen.'

'We'll follow you,' said Helen quietly.

The others moved away. John Carr, who had not spoken since his first
words, stood hesitatingly looking at the two figures silhouetted
against the fire. Then he too moved away, going with the others and in
silence.

'Tell me about it,' said Helen. She dropped down and sat with h