t to himself. "And I'll
have to pack the dirt down here to the creek; but I'll dig a nice
little bunch of cattle out of that gravel bank before snow flies, or I
miss my guess a mile."

As nearly as he could figure, he had chanced upon a split channel. For
ages, he judged, the water had run upon that ledge, leaving the streak
of gravel and what little gold it had carried down from the mountains.
Then some freshet had worn over the edge of the break in the rock until
the ledge and its deposit was left high and dry on the side of the
gulch, while the creek flowed through the gully it had formed below.
It might not be the correct explanation, but it satisfied Ward and
encouraged him to believe that the streak of pay gravel lay along the
ledge within easy reach.

He tried to trace the ledge up and down the gulch and to estimate the
probable extent of that pay streak. Then he gave it up in
self-defense. "I've got to watch my dodgers," he admonished himself,
"or I'll go plumb loco and imagine I'm a millionaire. I'll pan what I
can get at and let it go at that. And I've got to count what gold
shows up in the sack--and no more. Good Lord! I can't afford to make
a fool of myself at this stage of the game! I've got to sit right down
on my imagination and stick to hard-boiled facts."

He went home in a very good humor with himself and the world, for all
that. So far as he could see, the thing that had been bothering him
was settled most satisfactorily. He had wanted to spend the summer on
his claim, making improvements and watching over his cattle. There was
fence to build and some hay to cut; and he would like to build another
room on to the cabin. Ward had certain fastidious instincts, and he
rebelled inwardly at eating, sleeping, and cooking all in one small
room. But he had not been able to solve the problem of earning a
living while he did all this--to say nothing of buying supplies. And
he really needed a team and tools, if he meant to put up any hay.

Now, with that pay gravel within reach, and the gold running
twenty-five cents to the pan, and the occasional tiny nuggets jumping
up the yield now and then, he could go ahead and do the things he
wanted to do. And he could dream about having a certain gray-eyed girl
for his wife, without calling himself names afterward.

So he set to work the next morning in dead earnest with pick, shovel,
and pan, to make the most of his little find. He shoveled the dirt