aw, to
his utter surprise, that he was holding an unfinished pencilled note in
his hand. How it came there, when he had written it, he could not
tell; he dimly remembered that one of his first impulses was to write
to his wife, but that he had already done so he had forgotten. He
hastily concealed the note in his breast-pocket, with a vacant smile.
Masters eyed him half contemptuously, half compassionately.

"Don't forget yourself and drop it in some hollow tree for a
letter-box," he said. "Well--so long!--since you won't drink. Take
care of yourself," and, turning on his heel, Masters walked away.

Slinn watched him as he crossed over to his abandoned claim, saw him
gather his few mining utensils, strap his blanket over his back, lift
his hat on his long-handled shovel as a token of farewell, and then
stride light-heartedly over the ridge.

He was alone now with his secret and his treasure. The only man in the
world who knew of the exact position of his tunnel had gone away
forever. It was not likely that this chance companion of a few weeks
would ever remember him or the locality again; he would now leave his
treasure alone--for even a day perhaps--until he had thought out some
plan and sought out some friend in whom to confide. His secluded life,
the singular habits of concentration which had at last proved so
successful had, at the same time, left him few acquaintances and no
associates. And in all his well-laid plans and patiently-digested
theories for finding the treasure, the means and methods of working it
and disposing of it had never entered.

And now, at the hour when he most needed his faculties, what was the
meaning of this strange benumbing of them!

Patience! He only wanted a little rest--a little time to recover
himself. There was a large boulder under a tree in the highway of the
settlement--a sheltered spot where he had often waited for the coming
of the stage-coach. He would go there, and when he was sufficiently
rested and composed he would go on.

Nevertheless, on his way he diverged and turned into the woods, for no
other apparent purpose than to find a hollow tree. "A hollow tree."
Yes! that was what Masters had said; he remembered it distinctly; and
something was to be done there, but what it was, or why it should be
done, he could not tell. However, it was done, and very luckily, for
his limbs could scarcely support him further, and reaching that boulder
he dropped upon it lik