white valley lying at peace in the moonlight and straightway from
it sprang again, as always, his castle in the air; but before he
fell asleep in his cottage on the edge of the millpond that night
he heard quite plainly again:

"I'll go with ye--anywhar."




XI


Spring was coming: and, meanwhile, that late autumn and short
winter, things went merrily on at the gap in some ways, and in
some ways--not.

Within eight miles of the place, for instance, the man fell ill--
the man who was to take up Hale's options--and he had to be taken
home. Still Hale was undaunted: here he was and here he would
stay--and he would try again. Two other young men, Bluegrass
Kentuckians, Logan and Macfarlan, had settled at the gap--both
lawyers and both of pioneer, Indian-fighting blood. The report of
the State geologist had been spread broadcast. A famous magazine
writer had come through on horseback and had gone home and given a
fervid account of the riches and the beauty of the region.
Helmeted Englishmen began to prowl prospectively around the gap
sixty miles to the southwest. New surveying parties were directing
lines for the rocky gateway between the iron ore and the coal.
Engineers and coal experts passed in and out. There were rumours