morrow--till I say the
word! Promise me! On your love, promise!"

Her eyes held such a painful entreaty that he nodded acquiescence as
the door opened and her father and Alluna entered.

CHAPTER XIII

STARK TAKES A HAND IN THE GAME

The old man greeted the Lieutenant affably, but as his glance fell on
his daughter he stopped stock-still on the threshold.

"I told you never to wear that dress again," he said, in a dry, harsh
voice.

The girl made no answer, for her heart was breaking, but turned and
went into her room. Burrell had an irresistible desire to tell Gale
that he wanted his daughter for his wife; it would be an unwonted
pleasure to startle this iron-gray old man and the shawled and
shambling mummy of red, with the unwinking eyes that always reminded
him of two ox-heart cherries; but he had given Necia his promise. So he
descended to the exchange of ordinary topics, and inquired for news of
the creek.

"Necia's ground is getting better every hour," the trader said.
"Yesterday they found a sixty-dollar pan."

"Have you struck pay on yours?"

"No; Poleon and I seem to hold bad hands. Some of his laymen are
quitting work. They've cross-cut in half a dozen places and can't find
a color."

"But surely they haven't fully prospected his claims yet; there must be
plenty of room for a pay-streak somewhere, mustn't there?"

"It looks like he had drawn three blanks," said Gale, "although we
can't tell for sure. They're breaking most as bad for me, too; but I've
got a new hunch, and I'm running up a dreen to catch bed-rock along the
left rim. I've got twenty men at work, and I'll know before long. You
heard about Runnion, of course?"

"Yes; the usual story--the bad men get the good mines, and the good
ones get the hungry spots. Well, I might have been one of the
unfortunates if I had staked for myself; but I hardly think so, I'm
pretty lucky." He laughingly bade them good-night, content with himself
and at peace with the world.

Gale went to Necia's door and called her, but when she appeared he was
unprepared for the tragic face with which she greeted him.

"Daughter," he said, "don't feel bad over what I said; I didn't mean to
be cross with you, but--I don't like that dress."

"Were you cross with me, daddy?" she said, dully. "I didn't hear. What
did you say?"

He looked at her in amazement. "Necia, little girl, what is the
trouble?"

She was staring past him, and her fingers were fumbling