d, no whooping. In a land where the
revolver is readier than the fist men are wary of quarrel, careful of
abuse, and studiously regardful of others.

There were those who sought vice, and it was easily found. The saloons
were packed with thirsty souls, and from every third door issued the
click of dice and whiz of whirling balls in games of chance.

Every hotel barroom swarmed with persuasive salesmen bearing lumps of
ore with which to entice unwary capital. All the talk was of
"pay-streaks," "leads," "float," "whins," and "up-raises," while in the
midst of it, battling to save souls, the zealous Salvation Army band
paraded to and fro with frenzied beating of drums. Around and through
all this, listening with confused ears, gazing with wide, solemn eyes,
were hundreds of young men from the middle East, farmers' sons, cowboys,
mountaineers, and miners. To them it was an awesome city, this lurid
camp, a wonder and an allurement to dissipation.

To Mose, fresh from the long trail, it was irritating and wearying. He
stood at the door of a saloon, superbly unconscious of his physical
beauty, a somber dream in his eyes, a statuesque quality in his pose. He
wore the wide hat of the West, but his neat, dark coat, though badly
wrinkled, was well cut, and his crimson tie and dark blue shirt were
handsomely decorative. His face was older, sterner, and sadder than
when he faced Mary three years before. No trace of boyhood was in his
manner. Seven years of life on the long trail and among the mountain
peaks had taught him silence, self-restraint, and had also deepened his
native melancholy. He had ridden into Wagon Wheel from the West, eager
to see the great mining camp whose fame had filled the world.

As he stood so, with the light of the setting sun in his face, the
melancholy of a tiger in his eyes, a woman in an open barouche rode by.
Her roving glance lighted upon his figure and rested there. "Wait!" she
called to her driver, and from the shadow of her silken parasol she
studied the young man's absorbed and motionless figure. He on his part
perceived only a handsomely dressed woman looking out over the crowd.
The carriage interested him more than the woman. It was a magnificent
vehicle, the finest he had ever seen, and he wondered how it happened to
be there on the mountain top.

A small man with a large head stepped from the crowd and greeted the
woman with a military salute. In answer to a question, the small man
turned