nky little creek
five mile up-river. What do they call that creek where Dave staked,
Whitey?"

"Red Ruin," replied Whitey.

"Yep, Red Ruin. There's a mile or so at the lower end unstaked, and if
there ain't gold there, my name ain't what it is. Dave staked 250 feet
yesterday, and he's sure nuts on gold."

Dan nodded.

"You hike there, Jim, afore it goes to someone else."

"Ain't a healthy sort of name--Red Ruin," said Jim with a laugh.

"Names don't count."

Jim was finally persuaded to try his luck there. He left the party,
followed by their best wishes for success, and made for the camp up the
hill. He found Angela in a fit of revolt. She had done nothing since he
left that morning. Dirty pans and dishes littered the ground and blankets
were lying in heaps all round.

"Angela!"

She looked at him.

"You ain't bin hustling overmuch."

She flared up in an instant.

"I'm sick of this. You brought me here by brute force. I won't go on with
it. Do you understand? I've tramped over that icy wilderness with you.
I've suffered until I can suffer no longer. You never were a gentleman,
and ordinary courtesy and respect for a woman are unknown to you, but
surely you have a heart somewhere within you. Can't you see this is
killing me? Do you want to break my heart?"

"Hearts are hearts, ain't they? And breaking one ain't no worse than
breaking another. No, I'm no gentleman--not the kind you bin used to.
That's why I came here--because here they're only men, and I'd jest as
soon be a man as anything else on earth. I reckon that where a man goes
his woman should go too."

She flushed at the appellation "woman."

"You talk like a barbarian. I'm not your woman--you understand? Not your
woman."

"Figure out how you may," he retorted, "when you buy a thing, you buy it,
and it's yours until someone pays you to git it, or someone is hefty
enough to take it from you. As for that, if any guy thinks about cuttin'
in, he's welcome to try."

The true sense of his position was made patent. His rough philosophy was
good. Had she been his by mere conquest, no man in the Klondyke would have
disputed it. Being his wife, legally, his position was doubly strong. Only
cunning could win through. She meant to exercise that faculty as soon as
opportunity presented itself. And the opportunity was close at hand.

"I'm going up-river to-morrow," he said, "to prospect a creek, and to
stake two claims if it's a promising place. I'll