hidden house. Perhaps--he had spoken of some "silvery rock" the
night before--he even knew something of the lode itself. He turned
upon him with an aggressive face. But Collinson's next words
dissipated the thought.

"I'm glad I found ye, anyhow," he said. "Ye see, arter you left, I
saw ye turn off the trail and make for the burning woods instead o'
goin' round. I sez to myself, 'That fellow is making straight for
Skinner's. He's sorter worried about me and that empty pork
bar'l,'--I hadn't oughter spoke that away afore you boys, anyhow,--
'and he's takin' risks to help me.' So I reckoned I'd throw my leg
over Jenny here, and look arter ye--and go over to Skinner's
myself--and vote."

"Certainly," said Key with cheerful alacrity, and the one thought
of getting Collinson away; "we'll go together, and we'll see that
that pork barrel is filled!" He glowed quite honestly with this
sudden idea of remembering Collinson through his good fortune.
"Let's get on quickly, for we may find the fire between us on the
outer trail." He hastily mounted his horse.

"Then you didn't take this as a short cut," said Collinson, with
dull perseverance in his idea. "Why not? It looks all clear
ahead."

"Yes," said Key hurriedly, "but it's been only a leap of the fire,
it's still raging round the bend. We must go back to the cross-
trail." His face was still flushing with his very equivocating,
and his anxiety to get his companion away. Only a few steps
further might bring Collinson before the ruins and the "Notice,"