known him abuse their confidence.

"Yes," he said at length. "I think it's silver. Traces of lead, and
perhaps copper, too; you seldom find silver pure. But won't you go on
with the tale?"

"The party's food was getting short. That meant they would starve if
they did not reach the factory soon, and they set off again at dawn.
There was no time to prospect and deep snow covered the ground, but my
father made what he called a mental photograph of the spot. It was a
little hollow among the rocks, with a willow grove by the creek, and in
the middle there were two or three burned pines. If you drew a line
through them it pointed nearly north, and where it touched the cliff you
turned east about twenty yards."

"Aren't you rash to tell me this?" Thirlwell asked.

Agatha smiled. "On the whole, I think not; but nothing I could tell
would be of much use to you. My father, although he had been there,
could not find the spot again."

She paused a moment and then went on: "When they reached the factory he
showed the specimens to the agent, who said they were worthless and
laughed at him. But it was perhaps significant that he was not sent that
way again. One understands that the Hudson's Bay directors were jealous
of their game preserves."

"Furs paid better than silver," Thirlwell agreed. "They didn't want
miners with dynamite and noisy machines to invade the solitudes and
frighten the wild animals away."