an companionship. By and by, when the novelty wears off--maybe
you'll get sick of seeing the same old Bill around and nobody else.
You see I've always been on my good behavior with you. Do you like me
a lot?"

His arm tightened with a quick and powerful pressure, then suddenly
relaxed to let her lean back and stare up at him tenderly.

"I ought to punish you for saying things like that," she pouted. "Only
I can't think of any effective method. Sufficient unto the day is the
evil thereof--and there is no evil in _our_ days."

"Amen," he whispered softly--and they fell to silent contemplation of
the rose and gold that spread in a wonderful blazon over all the
western sky.

"Twenty-fifth of July, eh?" he mused presently. "Summer's half gone
already. I didn't realize it. We ought to be stirring pretty soon,
lady."

"Let's stir into the house, then," she suggested. "These miserable
little black flies have found a tender place on me. My, but they're
bloodthirsty insects."

Bill laughed, and they took refuge in the cabin, the doorways and
windows of which were barricaded with cotton mosquito net against the
winged swarms that buzzed hungrily without. Ensconced in the big chair
by the fireplace, with Bill sprawled on the bearskin at her feet, Hazel
came back to his last remark.

"Why did you say it was time for us to be stirring, Billum?"

"Because these Northern seasons are so blessed short," he answered.
"We ought to try and do a little good for ourselves--make hay while the
sun shines. We'll needa da mon'."

"Needa fiddlesticks," she laughed. "What do we need money for? It
costs practically nothing to live up here. Why this sudden desire to
pursue the dollar? Besides, how are you going to pursue it?"

"Go prospecting," he replied promptly. "Hit the trail for a place I
know where there's oodles of coarse gold, if you can get to it at low
water. How'd you like to go into the Upper Naas country this fall,
trap all winter, work the sand bars in the spring, and come out next
fall with a sack of gold it would take a horse to pack?"

Hazel clapped her hands.

"Oh, Bill, wouldn't that be fine?" she cried. Across her mind flashed
a vivid picture of the journey, pregnant with adventure, across the
wild hinterlands--they two together. "I'd love to."

"It won't be all smooth sailing," he warned. "It's a long trip and a
hard one, and the winter will be longer and harder than the trip. We
won't have t