LESS TOIL

The two claims on Red Ruin became as honeycombed as a wasp's nest. Day
after day Angela watched the bare-armed, red-shirted figure at work,
witnessing his failure with a set face. It became patent that the claims
were bad ones, and that Red Ruin was living up to its name. All the labor
of driving through matted undergrowth and frozen gravel was vain. "Hope
long deferred maketh the heart sick," and it made Angela's sick. She knew
that sooner or later Jim must accept the inevitable and abandon the
quest--there. She hoped it would be soon. After all, failure meant the
same as success--to her.

If Red Ruin failed, what else could he do but pack up and go home, as
thousands of others were doing? The patched-up steamers that were now
plying up the river were packed with a queer gathering of "failures" and
"successes." Men who had staked all on this promising gamble were going
back to the harness of civilization, sadder and wiser beings. The
relatively few successful ones were making programmes for the future--a
future in which an unaccustomed luxury figured prominently. Disease and
famine were taking their toll of the participants in the great adventure.
From all along the Yukon watershed came news of pestilence and panic.
Scurvy raged in Circle City, and a hungry mob at Forty Mile was only
quelled by troopers with loaded rifles. A boat coming up-river laden with
200 belated gold-mad men and women was stopped by the Commissioner, and
all but those who had foresight enough to bring a twelve-months' food
supply were refused a landing, for the famine was acute.

These pitiful facts came to Angela's ears. Even money could no longer
purchase food. The knowledge put a terrible weapon into her hands. If she
destroyed their food supply freedom was assured. For one hour she even
contemplated this means of escape. Was it not for his good too? Could he
hope to win where thousands had failed? She tried to convince herself
that it would be no act of treachery but one of kindness. The lie rankled
in her brain. A revulsion of feeling came as she reflected upon the
immediate past, for despite all her antagonism she could not but admire
the indomitable will of him. Failure was written all over the two
honeycombed claims, but it never daunted him. She heard the spade and ax
ringing on the hard earth from early morning till late evening, and saw
him swinging up the hill, a little grim, but otherwise unchanged.

She was impatient