rode as rapidly as possible. The horses, however,
were jaded, and the way was slightly up grade. The twilight was brief.
It descended abruptly from the western bank of clouds, by now as thick
and dark as mud. Afar off shone the first faint light of the gold-camp
to which the three were riding. This glimmering ray was two miles out
from the center of town. Goldite was spread in a circle four miles
wide, and the most of it was isolated tents.

The darkness shut down like a pall. A vivid, vicious bolt of
lightning--a fiery serpent, overcharged with might--struck down upon
the mountain tops, pouring liquid flame upon the rocks. A sweeping
gust of wind came raging down upon the town, hurling dust and gravel on
the travelers.

Van rode ahead like a spirit of the storm. He knew the need for haste.
Beth simply let her pony go. She was cramped and far too wearied for
effort.

They were galloping now past the outskirts of the camp, the many
scattered tents of the men who were living on their claims. All the
world was a land of claims, staked off with tall white posts, like
ghosts in the vanishing light. Ahead, a multitude of lights had
suddenly broken on the travelers' vision, like a nearby constellation
of stars.

They rode into all of it, blazing lights, eager crowds upon the
streets, noise of atrocious music from the brilliant saloons, and rush
of wind and dust, not a minute too soon. They had barely alighted and
surrendered their horses to a friend of Van's when the rain from the
hilltops swooped upon the camp in a fury that seemed like an elemental
threat to sweep all the place, with its follies, hopes, and woes, its
excitements, lawlessness, and struggles, from the face of the barren
desert world.

Beth and her maid were lame and numb. Van could only hustle them
inside a grocery-and-hardware store to save them from a drenching. The
store was separated from a gambling-hall saloon by the flimsiest board
partition. Odors of alcohol, confusion of voices, and calls of a
gamester came unimpeded to the women's senses, together with some
mighty bad singing, accompanied lustily by strains and groans pounded
from a ghastly piano.

"Sit down," said Van, inverting a tub at the feet of the wondering
women. "I'll see if I can rustle up your brother."

He went out in the rain, dived impartially into the first of the
crowded saloons, was somewhat hilariously greeted by a score of
convivial fellows, found no one w