ialized in graceful idleness and was prepared to meet
with superb confidence the competition of debutantes. The elusive shadow
of lost illusions, of knowledge born of experience, was the only
betrayal of vanished youth in her equipment.

CHAPTER II

ENTER A MAN

The whistle of the Hannah blew for the Tatlah Cache landing while Strong
and Elliot were talking. Wally Selfridge had just bid three hundred
seventy and found no help in the widow. He pushed toward each of the
other players one red chip and two white ones.

"Can't make it," he announced. "I needed a jack of clubs."

The men counted their chips and settled up in time to reach the deck
rail just as the gangplank was thrown out to the wharf. The crew
transferred to the landing a pouch of mail, half a ton of sacked
potatoes, some mining machinery, and several boxes containing provisions
and dry goods.

A man came to the end of the wharf carrying a suitcase. He was well-set,
thick in the chest, and broad-shouldered. He came up the gangplank with
the strong, firm tread of a man in his prime. Looking down from above,
Gordon Elliot guessed him to be in the early thirties.

Mrs. Mallory was the first to recognize him, which she did with a
drawling little shout of welcome. "Oh you, Mr. Man. I knew you first.
I speak for you," she cried.

The man on the gangplank looked up, smiled, and lifted to her his broad
gray Stetson in a wave of greeting.

"How do you do, Mrs. Mallory? Glad to see you."

The miners from Frozen Gulch were grouped together on the lower deck.
At sight of the man with the suitcase a sullen murmur rose among them.
Those in the rear pushed forward and closed the lane leading to the
cabins. One of the miners was flung roughly against the new passenger.
With a wide, powerful sweep of his arm the man who had just come aboard
hurled the miner back among his companions.

"Gangway!" he said brusquely, and as he strode forward did not even
glance in the direction of the angry men pressing toward him.

"Here. Keep back there, you fellows. None of that rough stuff goes,"
ordered the mate sharply.

The big Cornishman who had been tossed aside crouched for a spring. He
launched himself forward with the awkward force of a bear. The suitcase
described a whirling arc of a circle with the arm of its owner as the
radius. The bag and the head of the miner came into swift impact. Like
a bullock which has been pole-axed the man went to the floor. He t