r, the Denver capitalist, a
tip and he buys up the property for a song, giving Amos a fat
commission for his part in the deal. The chances are that we have no
more gold in our rock than there is in that jug handle."

The news was astounding. We sat for a while by the fire like men
stricken dumb. There was no doubting Buchan's statement. Deception was
no part of his nature. He was nearly twenty-six years of age,
athletic, strong and quick of perception. He had seen much of the
world and knew men. No, there could be no doubt; he was not mistaken.

We were heartsick. Almost our last dollar had gone to pay for the
bogus assay. Our golden dream of months was vanishing. Carson broke
the silence.

"I will go to Saguache tomorrow. I shall pulverize that jug handle and
take it to Amos; he does not know me; I shall have him assay it, and
if he gives me gold values there will be trouble!"

I was awakened the next morning by the sound of a hammer. Carson was
pulverizing the jug handle. After a hasty breakfast, he buckled on his
cartridge belt with a Colt 44-six shooter in his holster, and was soon
wading through the snow-drifts down the trail towards Saguache. I
watched him through the window until he was lost to view.

The sun rose in a clear sky; the glistening peaks of the Sangre de
Christo shone white against a turquoise blue; clumps of snow melted
from the branches of the pines and made hollows in the smooth banks of
white where they fell.

I turned to Buchan. He was tossing restlessly in his bunk.

"I would hate to be Amos if he gives Carson an assay of values from
that jug handle.

"Yes, yes," he muttered incoherently. "The day of reckoning comes to
all. I have seen it. I have seen the sky turn black, the waves rise
mountain-high out of the sea, the earth rock and reel, the dead roll
out of their coffins in the cerements of their graves, the living fall
upon their faces to hide from the wrath of Almighty God! I have seen
it just as Paul tells about it. I have heard the roar of the winds,
seen palaces crumble and fall--like John of Patmos, I lift up my
voice--I, John."

I was at his side in a moment, and saw that he was delirious. The
exertion through the snow the day before, the loss of sleep and
intense anger, had made him ill. I knew of a few simple remedies at
hand, and in a little while I had him sleeping soundly.

The sun became warmer as the day advanced. The snow melted on the
cabin roof and froze in droo