ose. That was his interest as a gold miner. But
there was another side to it, which occupied his thoughts even more.
And it was an interest based on his knowledge of Will Henderson,
and--various other things.

He was out at a temporary camp at one of his cuttings with Elia, who,
since his first sojourn with the prospector, now frequently joined him
in his work. They had just finished dinner, and Peter was smoking and
resting. Elia was perched like a bird on an upturned box, watching his
friend with cold, thoughtful eyes. Suddenly he blurted out an
irrelevant remark.

"Folks has quit chasin' Will Henderson," he said.

"Eh?"

Peter stared at him intently. He was becoming accustomed to the
curious twists of the lad's warped mind, but he wondered what he was
now driving at.

"He's too slim for 'em," Elia went on, gazing steadily into the fire.
"He's slim, an'--bad. But he ain't as bad as me."

Peter smiled at the naive confession.

"You're talking foolishly," he said, in a tone his smile belied.

"Maybe I am. Say, I could track Will."

"Well?"

"I'm goin' to. But I'll need your help. See here, Peter, I'll need to
get away from sis, an' if I get out without sayin', she'll set half
the village lookin' to find me. If I'm with you, she won't. See?"

Peter nodded.

"But why do you want to track him?"

"'Cause he's bad--an' ain't got no 'strike.' He's on some crook's
work. Maybe he's cattle duffin'. I mean to find out."

Peter's eyes grew cold and hard, and the boy watching him read what he
saw with a certainty that was almost uncanny.

"You've been thinking that always, too," he said. "You don't believe
in his strike, neither," he added triumphantly.

"I don't see why I shouldn't," replied Peter, guardedly.

"Yes, you do," the boy persisted. "It's because he's bad. Say, he's
makin' Eve bad takin' that money he sends her. An' she don't know
it."

"And supposing it's as you say--and you found out?"

"The boys 'ud hang him. And--and Eve would be quit of him."

"And you'd break her heart. She's your sister, and would sooner cut
off her right hand than hurt you."

Elia laughed silently. There was a fiendishness in his manner that was
absolutely repulsive.

"Guess you're wrong," he said decidedly. "It wouldn't break Eve's
heart worth a cent. She don't care a cuss for him, since--since that
night. Eve's a heap high-toned in her notions. He hit her. He nigh
killed her. She ain't one to fergit easy." He laug