ome up, after Denver had been imprisoned, which
Murray had failed to foresee; the fact that a convict is legally dead
until he has served his term. He cannot transfer property or enter into
a contract or transact any business whatever--nor, on the other hand,
can his mining claims be jumped. As a ward of the State his property is
held in trust until his term has expired. Then he gains back his
identity, if not his citizenship; and with the passing of his number and
the resumption of his name he can enter into contracts once more.
Murray's lawyer had known all this, but Murray had not; and when he
suggested a suit to quiet title to the Silver Treasure old Bible-Back
received a great blow. After all his efforts he found himself
balked--his work must even be undone. Denver Russell must be pardoned,
or at least paroled, and as the price of his freedom he must give his
word not to contest the title to his mine. No papers would be necessary,
in fact they would not be legal; but if his word would prevent him from
escaping from the road-camp it would keep him from claiming his mine.

Murray attended to the matter himself, for he was in a fever to begin
work; and then Denver Russell struck back--he refused to apply for
parole. Though he was pleasant and amenable, never breaking the prison
rules and holding his gang to their duty, when the kindly parole clerk
offered to present his case to the Board he had flatly and
unconditionally refused. The smouldering fire of his resentment had
blazed up and overmastered him as he sensed the hidden hand of his
enemy, and he had cursed the black name of Murray. That was the
beginning, and now when Murray passed, his glance was almost beseeching.
The price of silver was going up, there were consolidation plans in
sight, and Denver's claim apexed all the rest--Murray pocketed his pride
and, after a word with the guard, drew Denver out of hearing of the
gang.

"Mr. Russell," he said trying to appear magnanimous, "that offer of mine
holds good. I'll get you a parole to-morrow if you'll give me a
quit-claim to your claim."

"How can I give you a quit-claim?" inquired Denver defiantly, "a convict
can't give title to anything!"

"Just give me your word then," suggested Murray suavely and Denver
laughed in his face.

"You glass-eyed old dastard," he burst out contemptuously, "I know what
you're up to, too well. You're trying to get me paroled so you can take
my mine away from me and I won't da