d hev
been lucky to drown."

"An' now we're all goin' back poorer than when we started," remarked a
third.

"Pard, you've said somethin'."

"Wal, I seen a heap of gold, if I didn't find any."

"Jones, has this here Bill Horn any gold with him?"

"He acts like it," answered Jones. "An' I heerd he struck it rich out
thar."

The men appeared divided in their opinions of Bill Horn. From him they
drifted to talk of possible Indian raids and scouted the idea; then they
wondered if the famous Pony Express had been over this Laramie Trail;
finally they got on the subject of a rumored railroad to be built from
East to West.

"No railroad can't be built over this trail," said Jones, bluntly.

"Sure not. But couldn't more level ground be dug?" asked another.

"Dug? Across them Utah deserts an' up them mountains? Hell! Men sure hev
more sense than thet," exclaimed the third.

And so they talked and argued at their tasks.

The women, however, had little to say. One, the wife of the loquacious
Jones, lived among past associations of happy years that would not come
again--a sober-faced, middle-aged woman. The other woman was younger,
and her sad face showed traces of a former comeliness. They called her
Mrs. Durade. The girl was her daughter Allie. She appeared about fifteen
years old, and was slight of form. Her face did not seem to tan. It was
pale. She looked tired, and was shy and silent, almost ashamed. She had
long, rich, chestnut-colored hair which she wore in a braid. Her eyes
were singularly large and dark, and violet in color.

"It's a long, long way we are from home yet," sighed Mrs. Jones.

"You call East home!" replied Mrs. Durade, bitterly.

"For land's sake! Yes, I do," exclaimed the other. "If there was a home
in that California, I never saw it. Tents and log cabins and mud-holes!
Such places for a woman to live. Oh, I hated that California! A lot of
wild men, all crazy for gold. Gold that only a few could find and none
could keep!... I pray every night to live to get back home."

Mrs. Durade had no reply; she gazed away over the ridges toward the east
with a haunting shadow in her eyes.

Just then a rifle-shot sounded from up in the ravine. The men paused in
their tasks and looked at one another. Then reassured by this exchange
of glances, they fell to work again. But the women cast apprehensive
eyes around. There was no life in sight except the grazing oxen.
Presently Horn appeared carrying a deer