umbered in the southern night; slumbered to awaken to the
hushed tread of men and strange whisperings.

Down in the valley the coyotes called dismally, with that infinite
shrill sadness of wild things that hunger, and in their wailing pulsed
the eternal and unanswerable "Why?" challenging the peaceful stars.
Something in their questioning cry impelled Louise to lift her hands to
the night. "What is it? What is it up there--behind everything--that
never, never answers?"

The moon was lost somewhere behind the ragged peaks. The night grew
deeper. The Old Meadow, shadowed by the range above it, grew dark,
impenetrable, a place without boundary or breadth or depth.

"Got a match, kid?"

Louise raised her head. Some one was afoot on the Old Meadow Trail. She
could hear the whisper of dried grasses against the boots of the men as
another voice replied, "Sure! Here you are." And Louise knew that Collie
was one of the men.

About to call, she hesitated, strangely curious as to who the other man
might be, and why Collie and he should foregather in the Old Meadow, at
night.

"Never mind," mumbled the first speaker; "I thought I wanted to smoke,
but I don't. I want to talk first--about the Rose Girl."

Louise tried to call out, but she was interrupted by Overland's voice.
The two men had stopped at the lower side of the great rock. She could
hear them plainly, although she could not see them.

"Collie--we're busted. We're done, Chico. I ain't said nothin' to Billy
yet. He's got money, anyway. This here only hits you and me."

"What do you mean, Red?"

"I mean that the Rose Girl Mining Company, Incorporated, Jack Summers,
President and General Manager, don't belong to us and never did. We been
sellin' stock that ain't ours and never was."

"How's that?"

"I was goin' to write. But I ain't no hand to write about business.
Writin' po'try is bad enough. You recollec' them papers and that dust
Billy tried to find, out there by the track?"

"Yes."

"Well, I found it all. Since the company is workin' the claim now and I
didn't have so much to do, I got to thinkin' of them papers. I went out
there, paced her off down the track, guessed at about where it was, and
found 'em."

"Found them?"

"Yes, sir. There was that little bag almost atop of the sand, account of
wind and rain. Then there was a record of the claim, our claim. It's
been filed on before. We made a mistake and filed on the wrong section.
When me and Billy