egan with money, with well-fitted clothes, and with a few
notorious escapades behind him--yes, Donnegan with such a flying start
might flutter the heart of Nelly Lebrun for a moment. But he must have
the money, the clothes, and then he must deliberately set out to startle
The Corner, make himself a public figure, talked of, pointed at, known,
feared, respected, and even loved by at least a few. He must accomplish
all these things beginning at a literal zero.

It was the impossible nature of this that tempted Donnegan. But the
paradoxical picture of the ragged skulker in Milligan's actually sitting
at the same table with Nelly Lebrun and receiving her smiles stayed with
him. He intended to rise, literally Phoenixlike, out of ashes. And the
next morning, in the red time of the dawn, he sat drinking the coffee
which George Washington Green had made for him and considering the
details of the problem. Clothes, which had been a main obstacle, were
now accounted for, since, as he had suspected, the packs of Godwin
contained a luxurious wardrobe of considerable compass. At that moment,
for instance, Donnegan was wrapped in a dressing gown of padded silk and
his feet were encased in slippers.

But clothes were the least part of his worries. To startle The Corner,
and thereby make himself attractive in the eyes of Nelly Lebrun,
overshadowing Jack Landis--that was the thing! But to startle The
Corner, where gold strikes were events of every twenty-four hours, just
now--where robberies were common gossip, and where the killings now
averaged nearly three a day--to startle The Corner was like trying to
startle the theatrical world with a sensational play. Indeed, this
parallel could have been pursued, for Donnegan was the nameless actor
and the mountain desert was the stage on which he intended to become a
headliner. No wonder, then, that his lean face was compressed in
thought. Yet no one could have guessed it by his conversation. At the
moment he was interrupted, his talk ran somewhat as follows.

"George, Godwin taught you how to make coffee?"

"Yes, sir," from George. Since the night before he had appeared totally
subdued. Never once did he venture a comment. And ever Donnegan was
conscious of big, bright eyes watching him in a reverent fear not
untinged by superstition. Once, in the middle of the night, he had
wakened and seen the vast shadow of George's form leaning over the sack
of money. Murder by stealth in the dark had b