"Then it isn't----" she commenced. He ceased to laugh as he probed the dust in the pan. The whole thing was so miraculous to him, he could scarcely find expression. "You've found it, Angela," he said. "It's gold--real high-grade ore. You've dealt a straight flush at the last hand." "But it doesn't look like gold!" "That black stuff ain't gold, it's magnetic ore. Gee, wash some more dirt. This looks like Eldorado!" He flung down his pack and started shoveling out more gravel from the hole. In the meantime Angela washed the pay-dirt and placed the residue in a handkerchief. Excitement grew as the work went forward. Lower down, the yield was enormous. The pile in the handkerchief grew to an enormous size. Taking no heed of time, the work went on until the declining sun called them from their labors. Jim poured a pound or so of mercury into a tub of water, and submerged the results of their toil in it. "You think it is gold?" she queried. "Gold! Tons of it. I'll show you later. Come along and have some food." An hour or two later Jim brought from the tub the amalgam formed by the combination of the pan gold-dust with the mercury. This was squeezed through a bearskin, the process segregating the gold and depositing the mercury back into the tub. What little mercury remained in the glittering mass was evaporated out in a shovel over the camp-fire. For the first time Angela realized why the gold-miner, once successful, could never rid himself of the fever. All the bitter disappointments, pessimism, and misery vanished in the presence of that sizzling mass in the shovel. It was difficult to believe that here, dug from the frozen earth, was the thing for which men suffered, sinned, and died. Jim seized the gold nugget with his leathern hands and tossed it into the air, caught it again, and dropped it into his hat. "Angela, you're right. We're bursting with wealth! There ain't bin nothin' like this since that guy found Bonanza Creek. And now I've got to git to Dawson." "Dawson!" "Yep. It ain't ours yet. I've got to stake claims--one for you and one for me." "Then I'll come too." "Nope. Any prowling broiler might bunch in and take a fancy to this pitch. You jest sit tight. I'll be back to-morrow morning." "But you can't get to Dawson and back in one night." "Can't I? Jest watch my smoke. I'll get the claims registered and yank a man up here from the Syndicate. We'll sure sell out and save digging. We'll come down the river. You ain't skeered of stoppin' alone?" She laughed at his serious question, and watched him making ready for the journey. In a few minutes he had washed, shaved, and put on a pair of walking boots. He turned and nodded and went off with huge strides. She continued to sit by the fire, no longer wrestling with the future. In that unexpected moment of wonderful luck, she had seen the future clear-cut as it affected her. The pendulum swung the other way now--she meant to leave Alaska with the least possible delay.