was
painted that ominous word--DYNAMITE!

Two men were coming behind her.

"Six horses, a wagon an' old Fritz--blown to hell an' not a splinter left
to tell the story," one of them was saying. "I was there three minutes
after the explosion and there wasn't even a ravelling or a horsehair left.
This dynamite's a dam' funny thing. I wouldn't be a rock-hog for a
million!"

"I'd rather be a rock-hog than Joe--drivin' down this hill a dozen times a
day," replied the other.

The girl had paused again, and the two men stared at her as they were about
to pass. The explosion of Joe's dynamite could not have startled them more
than the beauty of the face that was turned to them in a quietly appealing
inquiry.

"I am looking for a place called--Bill's Shack," she said, speaking the
Little Sister's words hesitatingly. "Can you direct me to it, please?"

The younger of the two men looked at his companion without speaking. The
other, old enough to regard feminine beauty as a trap and an illusion,
turned aside to empty his mouth of a quid of tobacco, bent over, and
pointed under the trees.

"Can't miss it--third tent-house on your right, with canvas striped like a
barber-pole. That phonnygraff you hear is at Bill's."

"Thank you."

She went on.

Behind her, the two men stood where she had left them. They did not move.
The younger man seemed scarcely to breathe.

"Bill's place!" he gasped then. "I've a notion to tell her. I can't
believe----"

"Shucks!" interjected the other.

"But I don't. She isn't that sort. She looked like a Madonna--with the
heart of her clean gone. I never saw anything so white an' so beautiful.
You call me a fool if you want to--I'm goin' on to Bill's!"

He strode ahead, chivalry in his young and palpitating heart. Quickly the
older man was at his side, clutching his arm.

"Come along, you cotton-head!" he cried. "You ain't old enough or big
enough in this camp to mix in with Bill. Besides," he lied, seeing the
wavering light in the youth's eyes, "I know her. She's going to the right
place."

At Bill's place men were holding their breath and staring. They were not
unaccustomed to women. But such a one as this vision that walked calmly and
undisturbed in among them they had never seen. There were half a dozen
lounging there, smoking and listening to the phonograph, which some one now
stopped that they might hear every word that was spoken. The girl's head
was high. She was beginning to unde