mine was sound proof, it mattered little how noisy was his
rejoicing.

The cutting machine was instantly set in operation. The sing of the wheel
against the frozen earth was deafening. The earth-tremble, started by the
machinery, could not fail to make itself felt outside the mine. But when
he realized that only the yellow men knew the cause of such a tremble and
that they were many miles from that spot, making their way south with dog
team or reindeer, Pant had little fear. He would find his way to the
mother-lode, would melt snow from the inside of the bank by the mine's
entrance, would wash out the gold; then, if only he could evade the
Russians and the Chukches, he would begin the southward journey.

Hour by hour, the stacks of dark brown cubes of frozen pay dirt grew at
the sides of the mine. Hour by hour, the yellow glistened more brightly in
the cubes. Yet he did not come to the mother-lode. He slept but little,
taking short snatches now and then. Sometimes he fell asleep at his task.
One thing began to worry him; the gasoline was running short. With no
gasoline to run his motor, there could be no electric current, no power.

Now and again he fancied that men were prowling about the snow-blocked
entrance. He knew these were only fancies. Sleepless days and nights were
telling on his nerves. When would the rich pay come?

At last, while half asleep, he worked on the upper tiers of cubes, there
came a jarring rattle which brought him up standing. The wheel had struck
solid rock. This meant that there was a ledge, a former miniature fall in
the river bed. At the foot of this fall, there would be a pocket, and in
that pocket, much gold. The gasoline? There was yet enough. To-morrow he
would clean up the mother-lode. Then he would be away.

He stumbled, as in a dream, to his blankets, and, wrapping them about him,
fell into a stupor that was sleep and more.

* * * * *

As the balloon, in which Dave Tower and Jarvis rode, drifted toward the
shore of the mainland, Dave, shading his eyes, watched the yellow gleam of
the City of Gold darken to a purplish black, then back to a dull gray.

"Man, it's gone. I 'ates to look," groaned Jarvis. "It's gone, the City of
Gold."

Dave had been expecting something like this to happen. "Probably the
surface of some gigantic rock, polished by wind and rain, reflecting the
rays of the sun," was his mental comment. He did not have the h