When Dick left Nance at the cabin door and walked slowly down to the river, his heart was in a tumult of happiness such as he had never before experienced. He could hear the sounds of laughing, talking, and shouting among the miners, late though it was. He suspected that some of the men had been drinking, and were accordingly in a mood of riotous mirth. He did not wish to join them just now. What connection had he with their revelry? He contrasted the quietness of Martin's cabin with the confusion over the river. On the one side there was Nance, beautiful and pure; on the other, men destined for noble purposes and yet willing to degrade themselves at the least opportunity. What could he do to make those men see and realise something of the joy of a life in which the evil passions were subdued, and the higher virtues were predominate? Was it not his duty as a missionary in the Great Master's Cause to stem the tide of evil which was about to set in, and, if possible, to check the moral depravity which, like in other mining camps, always abounded? But what could one man do against so many? He could speak strong words of denunciation, rebuke, and exhort. But he knew such efforts would be of little avail. The men might listen but they would not heed. Some issue of a practical nature, he was well aware, was needed to cause such men to side with right against wrong. But what was this issue to be which would appeal to natures such as theirs? Not a campaign against liquor and its attending evils, he was sure of that.

Dick seated himself upon a log at the foot of a large tree, and gave himself up to serious meditation. Martin's canoe was nearby, so he could cross the river and in a few minutes reach his own tent. But he had no desire to sleep, as his mind was too active for that. He thought of Nance, her words, and the charm of her face. But a cloud arose to darken the light. The miners came into his mind, and he could not get clear of the idea that something was to happen, and that the one he loved was in real danger. He felt that his duty was of a twofold nature now: he must protect Nance, and also help the men who would not help themselves. But how was he to do this?

He was aroused from his reverie by the sound of a canoe grating upon the shore. Looking quickly up he was able to discern by the light of the moon two dark forms stepping from a little craft some distance below Martin's cabin. That they were there for no good purpose he felt quite sure, and his attention became instantly riveted upon their movements. He saw them leave the edge of the water and glide toward the house.

Rising to his feet, he stood irresolute for a few heart-beats, wondering what course he should pursue. It would not do for him to follow them in the open, as his form could easily be seen. Glancing to the right he saw the forest, sweeping in a black curve around the back of the house and not far away. With him to think was to act, so moving at once a short distance up stream, he reached the border of the clearing until he gained the shelter of the sombre trees. Then travelling as rapidly as caution would permit, he skirted the edge of the forest, keeping well within the black shadows.

Reaching at length a position just back of the cabin, he peered cautiously forth. The bright light of the moon made every object visible in the clearing beyond, so that any one approaching the house could easily be seen, although his countenance could not be discerned. Observing no one in sight, he moved forward a few paces and again stopped. This time his efforts were rewarded, for out in the open he saw the two men moving hurriedly to and fro. Several times they encircled the cabin. They seemed to have no design upon the building itself, but contented themselves by keeping a certain distance away. Dick racked his brain in an effort to solve the purpose of their strange actions. Ere long he heard the faint sounds of blows, and observed one of the men driving something into the ground. He then moved some distance away, when more blows followed. This was repeated several times, and the concealed watcher closely observed each spot where this process was performed.

Suddenly the meaning of it all flashed into Dick's mind. They were staking claims upon the very ground where the cabin was situated. The thought of this cowardly act sent the blood coursing rapidly through his veins, and a desire came upon him to rush forth, confront them, and frustrate their evil designs. This, however, he realised would be of little use. He well knew that Martin had not staked the spot upon which he was living. In a way it was his by right of possession, but how that would hold in mining law he had not the least idea. He cared little, anyway, for the legal right, as it was the sense of justice which over-shadowed everything else. Did the men desire the cabin? he wondered, and had they taken this under-handed method of procuring it? or did they have some other motive in view of which he was ignorant?

Dick watched the men until they had finished their task, and made their way back to the river. He was tempted to go over, pull up the stakes they had driven down, and throw them away among the trees. But this he knew would not do. It might lead to complications. He determined, nevertheless, to have a hand in this affair, and that at once.

Quickly making his way back over the route he had recently travelled, he came close to the river. Here he remained until he was sure that the two men had reached the opposite shore. He then walked cautiously toward Martin's canoe, pushed it off, and paddled as silently as possible across the stream. It did not take him long to reach his own tent, and when once inside he sat down upon his bunk, and gave himself over to anxious thought. He longed for some trusty person with whom he could discuss the whole affair, and his mind turned naturally to Tom, who was up at the new diggings. At first he was inclined to wait until morning to see what would happen. This idea he soon banished, however, and he determined to set off at once for assistance.

Silence brooded over the encampment as he started forth upon his journey. The numerous tents gleamed white in the light of the moon, and Dick paused for a moment to gaze upon the scene. Nature was making everything beautiful, and a holy hush reigned over mountains, river, and lake. But what a change would take place on this spot in a few days, nay even when the new day dawned fresh and bright. In a few weeks Quaska would be a typical mining camp, where licentiousness would run riot, unless in some way it could be checked. He looked across the river to the house nestling on the slope of the opposite bank, and thought of Nance sleeping so peacefully, with no idea of the lone man who on this night was so alert and watchful. With a wordless prayer that she might be kept safe from harm, he moved rapidly along the trail leading up stream. He knew that by keeping close to the river, even though he could not always follow the trail, he would in time come upon the miners.

It was still very early when Dick came in sight of the first tents close to the bank of the creek. Soon others appeared to view, but no living being could be seen. Not wishing to disturb any one, and not knowing which was Tom's cabin, he strolled along the shore to observe how much work the men had been doing. Coming to a large tree he sat down upon the ground, and leaned back against the bole. Little did he know that years before, under that same fir, Martin and Nance had stopped to rest, and that the maiden had played in the sand nearby. Had he known of this, how precious would the spot have been to him. He thought of Nance, nevertheless, as he reclined there. In truth she was seldom out of his mind. Presently he saw her standing before him. The same sweet smile was upon her face, and her hands were stretched out toward him. He noted how small and brown they were, and he reached out to take them in his own. At that instant the vision faded, and he opened his eyes with a start, to see Tom standing before him, holding a tin pail in his hand.

"Sorry I've disturbed ye," and the prospector chuckled. "Ye sure looked like a sleepin' beauty."

"Asleep, all right, but not a beauty," Dick laughed, as he sprang to his feet. "It was stupid of me to go to sleep."

"Why didn't ye come to my shack, pard?" Tom asked, as he placed his pail upon the ground.

"I didn't know which was yours, Tom, and I did not care to disturb the camp hunting around."

"H'm! What on earth brought ye out here at sich an unearthly hour? Tell me that."

"Business, Tom."

"Must be mighty special business."

"That's for you to judge."

"Nothin' wrong down yon among the men, I hope?"

"Nothing special. They were asleep when I left, or most of them, at any rate."

"It isn't the lassie, is it?" and Tom looked keenly into the young man's face.

"Yes; it concerns her and her father."

Tom at once picked up his pail, and soon returned with it full to the brim.

"Come with me, pard," he quietly remarked. "We'd better talk it out under cover."

When once within the tent Tom placed the pail of water upon the ground, and turned to his companion.

"Sit down, pard, an' let's have yer story. Speak low, as it's better not to let every ninny hear what ye've got to say."

Quickly and briefly Dick related his experiences during the past night, to all of which Tom listened with much interest. When the story was ended the prospector sat for a while thinking deeply. He scratched his head in a characteristic manner. At length he rose, and reached for his frying-pan.

"We'll have some breakfast, pard, eh?" he began. "Ye surely must need some grub by this time. I brought down a fine sheep out on the hills yesterday, an' a nice juicy piece 'ill do ye much good, I'm thinkin', fer ye look about tuckered out."

"I've hardly thought about eating," Dick replied with a laugh, "so worked up have I been over this affair."

"An' good reason, pard. I'm jist at a loss to express my feelin's at present, so must do somethin' with my hands. It'll all come back soon, an' then I'll tell ye jist what I think about them skunks."

"But I'm much puzzled," Dick mused.

"Over what, pard?"

"I've been wondering if we can do anything. Martin hasn't staked the claim on which his house is situated, and The Twins have. Now, legally, to whom does that land belong?"

Tom tossed several pieces of meat savagely into the frying-pan, and watched them for a while as they crackled and sizzled.

"Legally! Legally!" he roared. "What is the meanin' of the word? tell me that. I don't care a damn what has been recorded in any law-book, or what decision wise old owls of judges have come to. Sich things don't cut any ice here. That man owns the land on which his cabin is built accordin' to the law of this country. In a frontier sich as this we make our own laws, an' I guess the one we make concernin' this affair won't be fer wrong. There'll be no red-tape about it, either, mark my word. Legally! Legally! h'm!" and Tom gave a grunt of deep disgust as he thrust the knife under the meat to turn it over.

"Good for you, Tom!" Dick exclaimed. "I knew where to come for help, didn't I? You voice my feelings exactly. But we must not lose any time. I don't want Martin, and especially Nance, to get word of this matter. It would worry them, I believe, very much."

"Oh, they shan't be bothered a mite, pard. As soon as I've had a snack to eat, I'll slip out an' have a talk with old Dad, an' a few others I kin trust. It's always well to have several at yer back in an affair like this. Talkin' does mighty little good with some chaps unless ye have plenty of power back of yer words. I've found that out time an' time agin. So as soon as we're through with breakfast you turn in to yon bunk, while I stroll around a bit. A few winks won't do ye any harm."

When Tom had left the cabin Dick stretched himself out upon the one bunk the place contained. He did not believe that he could sleep, but felt that a little rest would do him good, and refresh him for the tramp back to the lake. He wished to return as soon as possible, and he hoped that Tom would go with him. He was anxious about Nance and Martin, for he did not know what tricks The Twins might be already planning.

Thinking thus he slept, and when he opened his eyes an hour later Tom was standing by his side.

"Feelin' rested, pard?" was the prospector's cheery greeting.

"Yes," and Dick sprang out of the bunk as he spoke. "I am surprised at myself, for I didn't believe that I could sleep."

"Ye were pretty well tuckered out, lad, so the nap 'ill do ye a world of good. But I think we'd better be away now. Several of the boys are more'n willin' to go with us. They're certainly roused up over what ye say The Twins did last night."

Outside Dick found Dad Seddon, and three other men, all strong, powerfully built fellows. Tom had made a wise choice in asking these men to accompany him down stream. They were not given to many words, which was partly natural, and partly acquired through long years in the silent wilderness. But they were men in whose eyes lurked not the slightest semblance of fear. They were friends worth having, but enemies to be dreaded.

Dick never forgot that rapid march down to the lake. Very little was said as they strode forward, and it was still early morning when Klutana's surface at length appeared to view. The miners were astir, and the confusion and bustle of a new day had already begun. But the five men headed by Tom did not pause until they had reached a tent of moderate size, situated on somewhat higher ground. Here the various claims were all recorded, and the Recorder was eating his breakfast, which was spread out upon an overturned empty soap box. He looked up with interest as the men appeared before him at the entrance of his tent.

"Mornin', Tom," was his salutation. "Struck somethin' good, eh?"

"Should say not," and Tom spoke in a low voice. "Have ye recorded any claims this mornin', Bill?"

"Sure thing. But why do ye ask?"

"Was it The Twins?"

The Recorder's eyes opened wide in amazement, and he looked curiously at the rest of the men standing silently and grimly outside.

"Have The Twins been here this mornin'?" Tom again asked.

"Yes. They routed me up at a most unearthly hour."

"Did they record claims over on yon bank?" and the prospector waved his hand toward the right.

"Yes; over the Quaska. Said they had rich ground there."

"D'ye know the locality?"

"Not exactly. This whole region is so new to me that I hardly know one spot from another."

"Bill," and Tom's voice sank to a deep hoarse whisper, "I believe that The Twins have staked Martin's place over the river."

The Recorder gave vent to an exclamation of surprise. He reached over to a small rude shelf, and brought forth the book in which the various claims were recorded. This he studied for a few seconds, and then read off what he had written there that morning.

"That's it, an' no mistake!" Tom cried. "The skunks! D'ye know where they are now, Bill?"

"They left here some time ago, and seemed to be in high fettle. I didn't savvey their game, and so paid no attention to their movements."

"Come, boys," and Tom turned suddenly to his companions, "I really believe that those devils are over the river now. Let's follow them, an' see what tricks they're up to. Thank ye, Bill, fer the information. We'll report to ye later."