that it was
equally unknown at Skinner's. Neither he nor his companions had
detected it in their first journey by day through the hollow, and only
the tell-tale window at night had been a hint of what was even then so
successfully concealed that they could not discover it when they had
blundered against its rock foundation. For concealed it certainly was,
and intentionally so. But for what purpose?

He gave his romance full play for a few minutes with this question.
Some recluse, preferring the absolute simplicity of nature, or perhaps
wearied with the artificialities of society, had secluded himself here
with the company of his only daughter. Proficient as a pathfinder, he
had easily discovered some other way of provisioning his house from the
settlements than by the ordinary trails past Collinson's or Skinner's,
which would have betrayed his vicinity. But recluses are not usually
accompanied by young daughters, whose relations with the world, not
being as antagonistic, would make them uncertain companions. Why not a
wife? His presumption of the extreme youth of the face he had seen at
the window was after all only based upon the slipper he had found. And
if a wife, whose absolute acceptance of such confined seclusion might
be equally uncertain, why not somebody else's wife? Here was a reason
for concealment, and the end of an episode, not unknown even in the
wilderness. And here was the work of the Nemesis who had overtaken
them in their guilty contentment! The story, even to its moral, was
complete. And yet it did not entirely satisfy him, so superior is the
absolutely unknown to the most elaborate theory.

His attention had been once or twice drawn towards the crumbling wall
of outcrop, which during the conflagration must have felt the full
force of the fiery blast that had swept through the hollow and spent
its fury upon it. It bore evidence of the intense heat in cracked
fissures and the crumbling debris that lay at its feet. Key picked up
some of the still warm fragments, and was not surprised that they
easily broke in a gritty, grayish powder in his hands. In spite of his
preoccupation with the human interest, the instinct of the prospector
was still strong upon him, and he almost mechanically put some of the
pieces in his pockets. Then after another careful survey of the
locality for any further record of its vanished tenants, he returned to
his horse. Here he took from his saddle-bags, half li