ndred dollars," muttered the "judge." "And he
cleared out without taking the trouble to pay me."

King's face cleared. His cheque for a hundred dollars decided the
"judge."

"That's a might of money to pay the old duffer for one night's work,
Mark," muttered Jim. "Strikes me that way, anyhow."

A might of money! King laughed.

"Now if you folks are ready," said Summerling, grown impatient the
moment the cheque was in his pocket, "I've got a long ride ahead of me."

This time Gloria did not keep them waiting. She came down the staircase
to Mark King standing at the bottom. In her pink dress, like a
thistledown, floating down to him. He was thinking--she, too,
remembered--how for the first time they had met thus. She smiled at him;
she put out her two hands to him as she had done that other time. And
right there they were married--on Gus Ingle's old Bible.

"It's done!" whispered Mark, bending over her. "You are mine now; mine
for all time, Gloria. And, girl of mine," he added reverently, "may God
deal with me as I deal with you."

"It's done!" In an awed little voice came Gloria's response, like an
echo. Mark King had seen her across the quicksands.

Jim and the "judge" had gone. They two were alone in the still house.
Gloria was nervous; King could see that and thought that he understood.
So he went for wood, made a cheery blaze in the fireplace, and drew two
chairs up to it.

"Tell me about papa's letter," said Gloria hastily Had there not been
that obvious topic she would have caught at another, any other. "He
didn't tell me how badly he was hurt or what had happened."

King put out his hand for hers, and while Gloria looked into the fire
and he looked into her face, he told her. At the end he brought out Gus
Ingle's Bible and read to her what was written in it. All the time that
his eyes were occupied she watched him eagerly, a little anxiously. But
by the time he had finished she had been intrigued for the moment out of
her own self-centred thoughts, her fancies caught by all that underlay
this crude tale of treasure and murder, of lust for gold, of treachery
and lonely death.

"And you know where it is?"

"I can go to it as straight as a string. Two days to get to it and to
stake a claim; two days to come out with a couple of horses loaded to
the guards. And that itself means a fortune, if it's clean, raw gold, as
would seem to be the case. We need not fear the poorhouse, you and I,
Mrs. King!"

"B