inertia, when finally Pratt, on his distant
hill, sent the signal for Glen to halt.

"All right, Beth--rest!" he called from the end of the chain, and she
sank at once in her tracks.

It was almost dusk when Pratt came toiling up the hill. Glen had come
down to Beth's position. He too was thoroughly tired. How the line
had come out was more than he could care. But Beth, with the last of
her flickering strength, arose to hasten Pratt.

"No use in the three of us being seen," he said, planting his transit
in the sand, but making no effort to adjust it to a level. "That ridge
there overlooks the claim. I'll climb up alone and take a bird's-eye
view."

"We're as near as that!" cried Beth in startled surprise. "Then what
do you think? Does the line include the claim?"

"I'll have to look around from the ridge," repeated Pratt with
aggravating caution. "You can wait ten minutes here."

He started laboriously up the slope--and Beth stood tensely watching.
She thought she saw him top the ridge, but he disappeared from sight.

The darkness was gathering swiftly in all the desert world. The girl's
excitement and impatience grew with a new flare up of energy. To think
that Searle was so near at hand, with fate a-hover in the air, sent her
pulses bounding madly.

It seemed as if Pratt would never return from the hill. She could
almost have dashed to the summit herself, to learn the outcome of their
labors. Then at last, from a small ravine, not far away, he appeared
in his leisurely manner.

Beth ran along the slope to meet him.

"Well?" she cried. "What did you find?"

He smiled. "Unless I'm crazy, Lawrence is either a liar or a fool.
That claim is safe outside the line by nearly an eighth of a mile."

"Oh!" cried the girl. She collapsed on the ground and sobbed in
exhaustion and joy.

She could go no further. She had kept her strength and courage up for
this, and now, inside the goal, she cared not what might happen.

They camped upon the spot. The man with the car, which had taken them
out, had been ordered to meet them down at Reservation town--the
mushroom camp which had sprung into being no more than a week before
the rush. All the way down there Pratt continued alone. He and the
chauffeur, long after dark, returned with provisions and blankets.
They had driven the car as far as possible, then climbed the ravine on
foot.

At nine o'clock Beth was asleep beneath the stars, dreaming of her