for the sake of a silver coin. She
could not find a solution of the mystery until it was explained that
evening.

Geoffrey Thurston, attired in white shirt, black sash, and new store
clothes, had tramped over to Graham's ranch and by degrees he and Miss
Savine gravitated away from the others. They were interested in
subjects that did not appeal to the rest, and, though Jean smiled
mischievously at times, this excited no comment.

Clear moonlight sparkled upon the untrodden snows above them, snows
that had remained stainless since the giant peaks were framed when the
world was young. The pines were black on their lower slopes, and white
mists filled the valley, out of which the song of the river rose in
long reverberations. Geoffrey and Helen leaned on the veranda
balustrade, both silent, for the solemnity of the mountains impressed
them, and speech seemed superfluous.

After a while, the girl told Geoffrey that he ought to be glad to live
after his narrow escape from death. "There was really no great risk,
and, if there had been, the results would have justified it," Geoffrey
replied. "The failure of two charges might have spoiled all my work
for me. Since I left you the Roads and Trails Surveyor voluntarily
offered me a rock work contract he had refused before, and I at once
accepted it."

"You have not been used to this laborious life. Have you no further
ambition, and do you like it?" asked Helen, flashing a quick glance at
him.

"It is not exactly what I expected, but as there appears to be no great
demand in this country for mental abilities, one is glad to earn a
living as one can," he said. "I am afraid I am a somewhat ambitious
person. I consider this only the beginning, and Miss Savine
responsible for it. You will remember who it was offered me my first
contract."

"Don't!" commanded Helen, averting her eyes. "That is hardly fair or
civil. You really looked so--and how was I to know?"

Geoffrey's pulse beat faster, and the smile faded out of his eyes as he
noticed, for the moon was high, the trace of faintly heightened color
in the speaker's face.

"I doubtless looked the hungry, worn-out tramp I was," he interposed
gravely. "And out of gentle compassion, you offered me a dollar.
Well, I earned that dollar, and I have it still. It has brought me
good luck, and I will keep it as a talisman."

Instinctively his fingers slid to one end of a thin gold chain, and for
a moment a look of c