rstands this. That is
why she has returned my ring--there is nothing further for me to say to
her. As for Marshall Haney I pity him, as you do, but he has no right to
claim you."

"He don't claim me. He wants me to stay here."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because he needs me."

"So do I need you."

"But not the way--I mean he is sick and helpless."

He drew her closer. "You must not go. I will not let you go. You're a
part of my life now." His words ceased, but his eyes called with burning
intensity.

She struggled, not against him, but in opposition to something within
herself which seemed about to overwhelm her will. It was so easy to
listen, to yield--and so hard to free her hands and turn away, but the
thought of Haney waiting, and a knowledge of his confident trust in her,
brought back her sterner self.

"No!" she cried out sharply, imperiously. "I won't have it! You mustn't
touch me again, not while he lives! You mustn't even see me again!"

He understood and respected her resolution, but could not release her at
the moment. "Won't you kiss me good-bye?"

She drew her hands away. "No, it's all wrong, and you know it! I'll
despise you if you touch me again! Good-bye!"

Thereupon his clean, bright, honorable soul responded to her reproof,
rose to dominion over the flesh, and he said: "Forgive me. I didn't mean
to tempt you to anything wrong. Good-bye!" and so they parted in such
anguish as only lovers know when farewells seem final, and their empty
hearts, calling for a word of promise, are denied.

CHAPTER XXIX

MARSHALL HANEY'S LAST TRAIL

Marshall Haney was a brave man, and his resolution was fully taken, but
that final touch of Bertha's hand upon his arm very nearly unnerved him.
His courage abruptly fell away, and, leaning back against the cushions
of his carriage, with closed eyelids (from which the hot tears dripped),
he gave himself up to the temptation of a renewal of his life. It was
harder to go, infinitely harder, because of that impulsive, sweet
caress. Her face was so beautiful, too, with that upward, tender,
pitying look upon it!

While still he sat weak and hesitant, a roughly dressed man of large and
decisive movement stopped and greeted him. "Hello, Mart, how are you
this fine day?"

Haney put his tragic mask away with a stroke of his hand, and hastily
replied: "Comin' along, Dan, comin' along. How are things up on the
peak?"

"Still pretty mixed," replied the miner, lig