g searched. Then, if nothing came to
light, a new line of action was to be entered upon. Only Tim Fleeters
accompanied the searchers. He would be necessary, it was considered,
to recognize the poke.

"Ugh!" exclaimed Mickie O'Toole, as they entered the first house, and
lighted a candle. "This place makes me crape, it's so still and
death-loike." Every nook was examined; the small box, the blankets,
while even the stove, from which the fire had died out, was not
overlooked. One by one the cabins were entered, and the same
monotonous work continued. Some of these Keith had never entered
before, and their bareness appalled him. What was there, he wondered,
in this golden lure, which could induce men to abandon every comfort,
and undergo such hardships in that desolate land? Was the uncertain
game worth it all? He could not believe it. At length the last house
was searched, the one which stood by the trail leading to the Indian
village. Nothing, so far, had been discovered, and the men peered at
one another through the darkness.

"Well," said Perdue, "we've had all this work for nothing, and I'm sick
of the job."

"But we're not through yet," replied Pritchen sharply. "There are
several more to visit, your own, the Radhurst cabin, and the mission
house, to say nothing of the Indian shacks."

"But ye wouldn't bother the old man and his daughter this time of the
night, surely," responded the saloonkeeper.

"I'd as soon distarb me mither's grave," said Mickie, "as to frighten
the swate-faced lady up yon by our presence to-night."

"Umph! I guess she won't mind," sneered Pritchen, "especially if the
parson's along."

The blood rushed into Keith's face, as he listened to these remarks.
It was hard for him to stand quietly there and hear these men speak so
lightly of one whose image was enshrined in his heart, and who was
becoming dearer to him every day. Her pure face and large, wondering
eyes rose before him, and when Pritchen uttered his coarse sneer he
turned suddenly upon him.

"What do you mean by those words?" he demanded.

"Anything you like," returned Pritchen.

"That's not an answer to my question. You named me in connection with
Miss Radhurst, and I want you to explain."

"You seem mighty interested."

"Yes, I am. And wouldn't any man with the slightest spark of chivalry
be interested if he heard insinuations about one, especially a woman,
who is as innocent and pure as the flower of th