particular reason, and here he had located his claim. The very first
day he struck gold. And Kells, more for advertisement than for any
other motive, had his men stake out a number of claims near Cleve's,
and bought them. Then they had a little field of their own. All
found the rich pay-dirt, but it was Cleve to whom the goddess of
fortune turned her bright face. As he had been lucky at cards, so he
was lucky at digging. His claim paid big returns. Kells spread the
news, and that part of the gulch saw a rush of miners.

Every night Joan had her whispered hour with Cleve, and each
succeeding one was the sweeter. Jim had become a victim of the gold
fever. But, having Joan to steady him, he did not lose his head. If
he gambled it was to help out with his part. He was generous to his
comrades. He pretended to drink, but did not drink at all. Jim
seemed to regard his good fortune as Joan's also. He believed if he
struck it rich he could buy his sweetheart's freedom. He claimed
that Kells was drunk for gold to gamble away. Joan let Jim talk, but
she coaxed him and persuaded him to follow a certain line of
behavior, she planned for him, she thought for him, she influenced
him to hide the greater part of his gold-dust, and let it be known
that he wore no gold-belt. She had a growing fear that Jim's success
was likely to develop a temper in him inimical to the cool, waiting,
tolerant policy needed to outwit Kells in the end. It seemed the
more gold Jim acquired the more passionate he became, the more he
importuned Joan, the more he hated Kells. Gold had gotten into his
blood, and it was Joan's task to keep him sane. Naturally she gained
more by yielding herself to Jim's caresses than by any direct advice
or admonishment. It was her love that held Jim in check.

One night, the instant their hands met Joan knew that Jim was