. The
man had had no claim on him, and there had been much that was
dissimilar in their natures, but they had, after all, borne many
hardships together, and that counted for a good deal. Still, in one
way he could not be sorry that Grenfell had gone on, for life, as he
had said, had very little to offer this outcast. It was clear that the
same thing held true in his own case, and he remembered with a little
wry smile that Grenfell had said his share was to go to him if they
found the mine. They had not found it, and there was no prospect of
their doing so, for his faith in the project had vanished now that
Grenfell was dead. It remained for them only to go back to the
settlements, defeated.

At length Devine broke in upon his reflections.

"I don't know whether you remember that we've had nothing since supper
last night," he said. "Anyway, I don't feel equal to undertaking
what's before us as I am. Seems to me the pack-horse would like a
drink, too."

Weston felt a little guilty, for the events of the past hour had
driven all thought of the beast out of his mind. Going back for it, he
led it to the water, after which they made a simple meal. When it was
over, Devine stood up resolutely.

"Now," he said, "there's a thing that must be done."

They set about it, and in another hour had laid to rest the man who
had brought them there. Then Devine put down his shovel and turned to
Weston.

"This thing has had its effect on me, and I guess you feel it too. He
was your partner quite a while," he said. "We want to get a move on
and work this depression out of us. Well, you can make camp--a little
farther back--while I crawl along between the willows and the range. I
want to see what's back of them. There's an idea in my mind."

Weston, who did not ask him what it was, fell in with the suggestion,
and, when his comrade floundered away through the willows, proceeded
to pitch the camp and build a fire ready for lighting among a few
straggling firs a little back from the water. Then he went to sleep,
and when the horse awakened him as it strove to pull out its picket to
get another drink, he was a little astonished to see that the sun now
hung low down above one range, and that Devine had not come back. He
lay still, however, in the blissful content that only the worn-out
know when, for a few hours, they can cease from toil. Presently he
heard the willows rustle, and, though it cost him an effort, he stood
up when Devine