officiated at
his funeral. Two other miners grew weary of the poor success in Dead
Man's Gulch and went off on a prospecting tour deeper into the
mountains. A year later another prospecting party came upon two
skeletons, near a small stream of water, which after careful
examination, were pronounced to be those of their former friends,
doubtless victims of the ferocity of the red men. Three vagrant miners
straggled into New Constantinople one night and were hospitably
entertained at the Heavenly Bower. Their appearance was against them,
and, when they announced their intention of making their home at Dead
Man's Gulch, the suggestion to them to move on was made in such terms
that they acted upon it and were never seen there again. Thus it came
about that New Constantinople, instead of increasing in population
and making a bid for the chieftaincy among the new towns in the West,
was actually shrinking in numbers.

And all this time, Nellie Dawson was growing fast. Her beautiful mind
kept pace with the expansion of her body. Her natural grace and
perfection of figure would have roused admiration anywhere. Her
innocence and goodness were an ever present benison to the rough
miners, who had long since learned to check the hasty word, to
restrain the rising temper and to crush the wrongful thought in her
presence.

After a time, Maurice Dawson took possession of one of the deserted
cabins which he fitted up, or rather the community fitted up the
principal apartment for the young queen, whose rule was supreme. No
one else was permitted to share the building with them, though
visitors were constant and Nellie herself continually passed to and
fro among her friends.

But those who watched Dawson saw that a change had come over him.
Formerly there was a quiet waggery in his nature, much like that of
Budge Isham, which led him to enjoy the rough pleasantries of his
companions, though he rarely took part in them, except as an inciting
cause. One of his greatest pleasures had been to sit in the Heavenly
Bower and exchange reminiscences with his friends, but all that came
to an end. Night after night passed without his face being seen in
the place. Those who called at the cabin were treated hospitably, but
he was reserved and moody, and often failed to hear the words
addressed to him. It was evident that there was something on his mind,
though he showed no disposition to make a confidant of any one.

CHAPTER IX

THE CLO