picturesque figure.

"I'll carry you down the stairs if you'll say the word," he said as
they paused a moment at the topmost step.

"Oh, no. I can walk if you will give me time."

"Time! Time is money. I can't afford it." He stooped and lifted her in
his right arm, and before she could protest he was half way down the
stairway. He laughed at the horrified face of the aunt. He was
following impulses now. As they walked side by side slowly--she, not
without considerable effort--up toward the spring, he said abruptly,
but tenderly:

"You must think you're better--that's half the battle. See that
stream? Some day I'm going to show you where it starts. Do you know if
you drink of that water up at its source above timber-line it will
cure you?"

She saw his intent and said, "I'm afraid I'll be cured before I get to
the spring."

"I'm going to make it my aim in life to see you drink at that pool."
His directness and simplicity stimulated her like some mediaeval
elixir. He made her forget her pain. They did not talk much until they
were seated on one of the benches near the fountain.

"Sit in the sun," he commanded. "Don't be afraid of the sun. You hear
people talk about the sun's rays breeding disease. The sun never does
that. It gives life. Beware of the shadow," he added, and she knew he
meant her mental indifference. They had a long talk on the bench. He
told her of his family, of himself.

"You see," he said, "father had only a small business, though he
managed to educate me, and, later, my brother. But when he died it had
less value, for I couldn't hold the trade he had and times were
harder. I kept brother at college during his last two years, and when
he came out I gave the business to him and got out. He was about to
marry, and the business wouldn't support us both. I was always
inclined to adventure anyway. Gold Creek was in everybody's mouth, so
I came here.

"Oh, that was a wonderful time; the walk across the mountains was like
a story to me. I liked the newness of everything in the camp. It was
glorious to hear the hammers ringing, and see the new pine buildings
going up--and the tent and shanties. It was rough here then, but I had
little to do with that. I staked out my claim and went to digging. I
knew very little about mining, but they were striking it all around
me, and so I kept on. Besides"--here he looked at her in a curiously
shy way--"I've always had a superstition that just when things were