tortures me."

"Something tells me we'll escape, if only we can plan the right way.
Jim, I'll have to be penned here, with nothing to do but wait. You
must come every night! ... Won't you?"

For an answer he kissed her again.

"Jim, what'll you do meanwhile?" she asked, anxiously.

"I'm going to work a claim. Dig for gold. I told Kells so to-day,
and he was delighted. He said he was afraid his men wouldn't like
the working part of his plan. It's hard to dig gold. Easy to steal
it. But I'll dig a hole as big as a hill! ... Wouldn't it be funny
if I struck it rich?"

"Jim, you're getting the fever."

"Joan, if I did happen to run into a gold-pocket--there're lots of
them found--would--you--marry me?"

The tenderness, the timidity, and the yearning in Cleve's voice told
Joan as never before how he had hoped and feared and despaired. She
patted his cheek with her hand, and in the darkness, with her heart
swelling to make up for what she had done to him, she felt a
boldness and a recklessness, sweet, tumultuous, irresistible.

"Jim, I'll marry you--whether you strike gold or not," she
whispered.