lay upon his great fortune; and with the
last tenant of the hollow a proscribed outlaw and fugitive, he was
henceforth forever safe in his claim and his discovery. And yet, oddly
enough, at that moment, as he turned away, for the first time in three
weeks there passed before his fancy with a stirring of reproach a
vision of the face that he had seen at the window.

CHAPTER III.

Of the great discovery in Sylvan Silver Hollow it would seem that
Collinson as yet knew nothing. In spite of Key's fears that he might
stray there on his return from Skinner's, he did not, nor did he
afterwards revisit the locality. Neither the news of the registry of
the claim nor the arrival of Key's workmen ever reached him. The few
travelers who passed his mill came from the valley to cross the Divide
on their way to Skinner's, and returned by the longer but easier detour
of the stage-road over Galloper's Ridge. He had no chance to
participate in the prosperity that flowed from the opening of the mine,
which plentifully besprinkled Skinner's settlement; he was too far away
to profit even by the chance custom of Key's Sabbath wandering workmen.
His isolation from civilization (for those who came to him from the
valley were rude Western emigrants like himself) remained undisturbed.
The return of the prospecting party to his humble hospitality that
night had been an exceptional case; in his characteristic simplicity he
did not dream that it was because they had nowhere else to go in their
penniless condition. It was an incident to be pleasantly remembered,
but whose nonrecurrence did not disturb his infinite patience. His
pork barrel and flour sack had been replenished for other travelers;
his own wants were few.

It was a day or two after the midnight visit of the sheriff to Silver
Hollow that Key galloped down the steep grade to Collinson's. He was
amused, albeit, in his new importance, a little aggrieved also, to find
that Collinson had as usual confounded his descent with that of the
generally detached boulder, and that he was obliged to add his voice to
the general uproar. This brought Collinson to his door.

"I've had your hoss hobbled out among the chickweed and clover in the
green pasture back o' the mill, and he's picked up that much that he's
lookin' fat and sassy," he said quietly, beginning to mechanically
unstrap Key's bridle, even while his guest was in the act of
dismounting. "His back's quite healed up."

Key c