Dick Russell rose early the next morning, much refreshed by his sleep. But Martin was up ahead of him, and had slipped out of the building before any one else was astir. Tom lighted the fire, and proved very handy in helping Nance with preparing the breakfast. In an hour's time the meal was over. It was a very frugal repast, but what was lacking in food was made up in pleasant conversation. Dick thought that Nance looked prettier than ever as she sat at the head of the table and poured the tea. The men naturally wondered what had become of Martin, but Nance informed them that he must have gone to the hills for mountain sheep. Their supply of fresh meat was getting low, and it was nothing unusual for her father to go off in the early morning hours.

"I must be off, too," Dick remarked, as he rose from the table. "This hot sun is breaking up the trail, and it is necessary to get to Rapid City as soon as possible to record that claim. You will stay?" and he turned to Tom.

"Yes, pard," was the reply. "My old legs are not fit fer sich a trip at present. I shall git a cabin fixed up as quick as I can. I haven't much to live upon, to be sure, though I've been placed in a far worse position many a time before. I'll go down to the cache we left along the river an' git my rifle an' some grub. You'll need the rest."

Nance, too, had risen to her feet, and stood looking at the two men. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bright.

"You will come back, will you not?" she faltered, as Dick took her hand to bid her good-bye.

"Just as soon as I can," Dick returned.

"Before the summer?" she queried. "I hope you will, as we are going away."

"What!" Dick dropped her hand, and looked intently into her eyes. "Going away! Surely you don't mean it!"

"Yes, it is true. We have been planning for some time to go outside, and so have everything arranged for this coming summer."

"But you must not go until I return. Promise me that," the young man urged.

"It all depends upon my father. I did want to go so much a while ago, but now I am not so anxious."

It was with great reluctance that Dick left the house, with Nance standing in the doorway, and swung off down the trail, which ran along the shore of the lake. Several times he turned and waved his hand to the young woman, until a bend in the trail hid her from view.

"She's certainly a fine one," Tom remarked, as he trudged along by Dick's side. "It's a great mystery to me; it really is."

"What's a mystery, Tom?" and Dick glanced inquiringly at his companion.

"Why, you know, pard, as well as I do. I can't savvey why that man should be livin' here all of these years with that beautiful daughter of his. It isn't natural that any one should bury himself like that in sich a wilderness as this."

"You're right, Tom," Dick reflected. "He's an educated man, too, which makes it all the more mysterious. His books plainly show that. He speaks well, and he has taught Nance to play the violin splendidly."

"I felt like askin' him about his life when we were sittin' before the fire last night. But he acted so queer at times that I thought it best not to do so. Did ye notice how he left us so suddenly, an' when he came back he sat glum an' silent in the corner?"

"I did, Tom."

"Now, what would ye make out of that, eh?"

"Nothing. Perhaps it was only his manner. Living so long in the wild is enough to make any one odd, don't you think so?"

"It may be as ye say, pard, though it doesn't altogether fill the bill. Now, why should a man with a fine edication want to live in sich a place as this fer so many years? If it was gold he was after I could somewhat savvey it. But he doesn't seem to care anything about the strike. He hasn't even staked a claim. There's a mystery somewhere in the background, that's certain."

"Do you suppose he knows about the gold up the Quaska?" Dick asked.

"What d'ye mean, pard?"

"Didn't I tell you about the big holes which had been dug up there? I staked your claim right next to them. Now, suppose that Martin did the digging, and has taken out more than he needs, eh?"

"Not on yer life, pard. If he had the gold he'd 'a' hiked out of the country long afore this."

"But who dug those holes, then?" Dick insisted.

"I can't say fer certain. The Rooshians may have done it. They were pokin' around this country years ago. I have found holes in many places that they have dug."

"But surely Martin must have known about those holes, Tom. He has hunted all over this region. But, then, perhaps he wasn't after the gold. He has a very neat cabin at any rate, which is so comfortable."

"Who wouldn't be comfortable with sich a house an' sich a daughter to look after it, tell me that. She's about the finest specimen of womankind I have ever set my eyes on, an' that's sayin' a good deal. What a pity that she's been hid away so long in a lonely spot like this."

Dick made no reply to these words, but all the way along the trail, after Tom had left him, he thought of Nance. To him the Quaska valley had a new fascination now. He had come into the country with the special object of carrying on his Great Master's work, lengthening the cords and strengthening the stakes of the Church. As a medical man, as well as a missionary, he had done much good among the men in the various camps. This stampede into the Quaska valley had opened to him another door of usefulness. He had gone with the men, not for the sake of gold, but for the assistance he might be able to give. This new region had always seemed to him a very desolate place. But now all had been changed since he had found Nance. Almost unconsciously he began to repeat to himself one of his favourite and inspiring verses of Scripture. Only now he applied the words in a different sense. "The wilderness and the solitary places," he murmured, "shall be glad for her, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose."

Her image was thus ever before him as he toiled over the weary trail. He thought of her by day, and dreamed of her at night, as he lay alone upon his bed of fir boughs with the stars twinkling overhead. He was several hours in advance of the rest of the men, and he was glad that such was the case. He wished to be alone with the new happiness which had come so suddenly into his life. Never before had any one impressed him as did Nance. He had met many beautiful and clever women, but not one had ever appealed to him as had this woman by the shore of the Klutana Lake.

He was anxious to hurry down to Rapid City, record the claim, and make ready to return up river as soon as the ice ran out of the stream. That this would not be long he was well aware, for the hot sun was making havoc with the ice, and the water was rising fast. The trail was abominable, but he did not seem to mind it now. A new spirit filled his soul and animated his whole being. His one great desire was to get back to the little cabin in the wilderness before Nance and her father should leave.

After several days of hard travelling, Dick reached Rapid City. He was very tired and hungry when he reached the place, but the first thing that he did was to record the claim he had staked in Tom Hendrick's name. That night all the men in the mining town came to his cabin, anxious to learn all they could about the prospects of the new "diggings."

"What about the old man who lives out there?" Sam Pelchie after a while asked.

"Where did you get your knowledge, Sam?" and Dick looked at him in surprise. "I haven't told you a word about him."

But the other only laughed, and tipped a wink to Dave Purvis, who grinned in return. Dick was about to tell what he knew about Martin when the action of these men caused him to hesitate.

Of all the miners at Rapid City these two had been the most troublesome during the past winter. They were noted for their laziness, and but for the good-heartedness of others they would have starved. They seldom did any hunting for their support. They were disliked by the men of Rapid City, but, as is so often the rule in a frontier camp, they received a share of all that was going. The sense of shame in living as parasites did not bother them in the least. Dick always managed to get along fairly well with "The Twins," as they were commonly called, although he believed them to be veritable scoundrels, who would turn against their best friends upon the least pretext.

Nothing more was said on this occasion about Martin, and so the conversation drifted off to the gold of the Quaska. But Dick determined to keep his eyes upon Pelchie and Purvis. He intended to keep his ears open as well in an effort to learn how they happened to know that Martin lived up river. He knew that they did not hear of him from the two prospectors who had made the discovery, as they had reported that only Indians lived up there. These men had already returned to the Quaska valley. Taku had gone with them, his dogs drawing a supply of provisions.

Dick went to bed that night wondering what The Twins meant by the winks they had passed to each other, and their mysterious manner. A sudden thought came into his mind, which caused him to toss to and fro, tired though he was. Was it possible that Pelchie and Purvis had heard about Nance and her remarkable beauty? He knew from what the men had said on former occasions that they had very little respect for women. In a land such as this where might was right, what chance would a beautiful young woman, innocent as a child, have against wily minions of Satan? What else, he asked himself, would make The Twins take such an interest in Martin? At length he fell into a troubled sleep, and dreamed that Nance was beset by cruel and terrible dragons, and that he was unable to go to her assistance.

Early the next morning a band of weary stampeders reached Rapid City, and recorded their claims. After breakfast Dick went over to the store, where he found a crowd of men gathered. Upon a small table in the middle of the room was a rough map, sketched with the point of a burnt stick, showing the new diggings. Around this most of the men were clustered, discussing it in a most animated manner. Small numbers marked the places where the stampeders had staked their claims. The old holes formed the boundary line of the valley, and the claims were marked "above" or "below," according to their situation.

"Where is the old man's cabin?" Pelchie asked, leaning over for a better view.

"At the mouth of the river," Ben Haines replied, "right there," and he made a small cross upon the paper.

"Did he stake?" Pelchie further queried.

"No. Takes no interest in the discovery. He's a strange one; lives alone with his daughter, and just hunts for his living. But he was mighty good to us, and handed out about the whole of his grub. His daughter is certainly a beauty. You should have seen her eyes fill with tears when we carried poor old 'Dad' into the cabin, sick as a dog, and moaning like a baby. He was clean cracked when we left him, but that girl was nursing him like a mother. You missed something, Sam, by not being along with us. Why in hell didn't you and Dave go on the stampede?"

"Had other business, Ben, hey, Dave?" and he winked to his partner.

"Sure thing," was the reply. "We've never seen the Quaska, but I'll gamble that we'll take out more gold from that place than any of you."

A laugh went up from the men in the room. They knew The Twins and what bluffing they always did. This last remark was most characteristic.

"You'll have to get a hustle on if you intend to stake," Barry Dane spoke up. "The Northern Packet will be here as soon as the river clears, and I wouldn't be surprised if a big crowd comes on her. We're going to get her to go right up to the lake. There's bound to be a lively bunch there this summer, so you'd better make a move at once if you're going to do anything. We're not going to keep you again as we did last winter, I can tell you that."

"Don't you worry," Dave surlily replied. "We'll make your eyes stick out before the summer's over, never fear. I don't care for any d—— crowd which comes on the Packet."

Dick Russell said nothing to any of the men about the thoughts which were troubling him. As the days passed he endeavoured to learn something of the plans of Pelchie and Purvis, but in vain. He saw them at times together, talking in a most confidential way, and knew that they were often in each other's cabins. He believed that Martin, and perhaps Nance, formed the chief topic of their conversation, and his heart grew heavy as he thought of what the future might reveal. He awaited anxiously for the river to clear, and the steamer to arrive, that he might hurry up stream, not for gold, but to see Nance and, if necessary, to protect her.