away as useless impedimenta, until it occurred to him, albeit
vaguely, that it might be of service to him in its connection with
that discovery, in the way of refuting possible false claimants.
He was not aware of any faithlessness to his momentary romance, any
more than he was conscious of any disloyalty to his old companions,
in his gratification that his good fortune had come to him alone.
This singular selection was a common experience of prospecting.
And there was something about the magnitude of his discovery that
seemed to point to an individual achievement. He had made a rough
calculation of the richness of the lode from the quantity of
precipitate in his rude experiment; he had estimated its length,
breadth, and thickness from his slight knowledge of geology and the
theories then ripe; and the yield would be colossal! Of course, he
would require capital to work it, he would have to "let in" others
to his scheme and his prosperity; but the control of it would
always be HIS OWN.

Then he suddenly started as he had never in his life before started
at the foot of man! For there was a footfall in the charred brush;
and not twenty yards from him stood Collinson, who had just
dismounted from a mule. The blood rushed to Key's pale face.

"Prospectin' agin?" said the proprietor of the mill, with his weary
smile.

"No," said Key quickly, "only straightening my pack." The blood
deepened in his cheek at his instinctive lie. Had he carefully
thought it out before, he would have welcomed Collinson, and told
him all. But now a quick, uneasy suspicion flashed upon him.
Perhaps his late host had lied, and knew of the existence of the