reak up a trade there is something significant behind it. Denver had
come to Pinal in response to a prophecy, in search of two hidden
treasures between which he must make his choice; and now, added to that,
was the further question of whether he should venture to oppose Murray.
If he did, he could proceed in the spirit of the prophecy and choose
between the silver and gold treasures; but if he did not there would be
no real choice at all, but simply an elimination. He must turn away from
the silver treasure, that precious vein of metal which led so temptingly
into the hill, and take the little stringer of quartz which the
Professor had offered as a gold mine. Denver thought it all over out in
front of his cave that night and at last he came back to the prophecy.

"Courage and constancy," it said, "will attend you through life, but in
the end will prove your undoing, for you will meet your death at the
hands of your dearest friend."

Denver's heart fell again at the thought of that hard fate but it did
not divert him from his purpose. Mother Trigedgo had said that he should
be brave, nevertheless--very well then, he would dare oppose Murray. But
now to choose between the two, between the Professor's stringer of gold
and Bunker's vein of silver--with the ill will of Murray attached.
Denver pondered them well and at last he lit a candle and referred it to
Napoleon's Oraculum.

In the front of the Book of Fate were thirty-two questions the answers
to which, on the succeeding pages, would give counsel on every problem
of life. The questions, at first sight, seemed more adapted to love-sick
swains than to the practical problem before Denver, but he came back to
number nine.

"Shall I be SUCCESSFUL in my present undertaking?"

All he had to do was to decide to buy the silver claim and then put the
matter to the test. He spread a sheet of fair paper on the clear corner
of his table and made five rows of short lines across it, each
containing more than the requisite twelve marks. Then he counted each
row and, opposite every one that came even, he placed two dots; opposite
every line that came odd, one dot. This made a series of five dots, one
above the other, of which the first two were double and the last three
single, and he turned to the fateful Key.

It was spread across two pages, a solid mass of signs and letters,
arranged in a curious order; and along the side were the numbers of the
questions, across the top the di