, too, and
thieve their blankets, even if he didn't need 'em. He's quite a
boy--when you got him where you need him. I----"

Kars broke off listening acutely. He turned his head with that
instinct of avoiding the night breeze. Bill, too, was listening, his
watchful eyes turned northward.

The moments grew. The splutter of rifle fire still haunted the night.
But, for all its breaking of the stillness, the muffled sound of a
paddle grew out of the distance. Kars sighed a relief he would not
have admitted.

"Back to--schedule," he said. "Guess it needs a half hour of dawn."

There was no muffle to the sound of the paddle now, and the waiting men
understood. The Indian was up against the full strength of the heavy
stream, and, light as was his craft, it was no easy task to breast it.
For some minutes the rhythmic beat went on. Then the little vessel
grated directly opposite them, with an exactness of judgment in the
darkness that stirred admiration. A moment later Peigan Charley was
giving the results of his expedition in the language of his boss, of
which he considered himself a perfect master.

"Charley, him find him," he said with deep satisfaction. "Him mak'
plenty trail. Much climb. Much ev'rything. So."

CHAPTER XXIX

THE LAP OF THE GODS

He looked like a disreputable image carved in mahogany, and arrayed in
the sittings of a rag-picker's store. He was seated on the earthen
door-sill of the hut where Kars was sleeping. He was contemplating
with a pair of black, expressionless eyes the shadows growing in the
crevices of the far side of the gorge. The occasional whistle of a
bullet passing harmlessly overhead failed to disturb him in the
smallest degree. Why should he be disturbed? They were only fired by
"damn-fool neche."

He sat quite still in that curious haunch-set fashion so truly Indian.
It was one of the many racial characteristics he could not shake
off--for all his boasted white habits--just as his native patience was
part of his being. Nothing at that moment seemed to concern him like
the watching of those growing shadows of night, and the steady
darkening of the evening sky.

The defences were alive with watchful eyes. The movement of men was
incessant. The smell of cooking hung upon the evening air blending
with the smoke of the cook-house fire. Only the sluices stood up still
and deserted, and the dumps of pay dirt. But, for the moment, none of
these things were