He wandered back to the hotel, sick at heart and hating the fast-approaching morrow with its heartache.... He had found gold, but he had lost--lost completely in the larger battle. He made no attempt to undress, but sat on his bed and groaned. When the dawn came he made himself presentable and knocked at Angela's door. He found her clad for the journey, and several bags ready for transit. He thought, too, she seemed delighted at the prospects--delighted when his heart was breaking! "I'll take these things," he said, and picked up the bags. They made their way to the jetty off which the _Topeka_ lay, with a gangway connecting. It was near the time of departure, and nearly all the passengers were aboard. A crowd of men stood on the shore, passing remarks to those who were leaving. Here and there a wet eye was in evidence, as some unfortunate devil saw his wife and child bound for the outer world--and himself left to the tender mercies of the Klondyke. Jim walked over the gangway and put down the luggage. When he turned to Angela he saw no sign of regret. She seemed as calm and collected as she had been when first he met her. "So this is the end of the great adventure," she said, smiling. "Yep." "And you--what do you intend doing?" Jim gulped. "I guess the Klondyke is good enough for me. See here, Angela, I bin pretty rough with you--but--it wasn't that I meant it that way. You gotta make allowances for me. I lived among animals for years. Maybe I kinder got like one, without quite knowing it." "Perhaps you may make allowances for me, too. I was born in luxury, where hardship and suffering never entered, where flattery and gifts were the daily portion. I have never had a chance----" "Cut that," he grunted. "You got grit and pluck and----" "All aboard!" yelled a stentorian voice. "They're off," said Jim. "I---- Good-bye, Angela. Maybe you'll remember--sometimes." His eyes suddenly swam and he turned his head away. "Good-bye!" she murmured, and held his hand. "All aboard!" yelled the voice again. A man began to move the gangway. The hand in Jim's suddenly clung on. "I gotta go," he moaned; "they're pulling in the plank." The steamer "honked" and began to move. He looked at her appealingly and she placed something into the palm of his hand. "It's something I forgot to give you," she said softly. He opened his hand and saw--a steamboat ticket. "But----" "I bought two," she said. "One for you and one for me; and most of your clothes are in those bags. Didn't you miss them?" CHAPTER XXIV CONCLUSION It was past midnight, and they were sitting in the stern of the _Topeka_ listening to the chopchop of the water under her flat bottom. Save for an occasional guffaw and curse, evidence of some nocturnal card-party, silence reigned aboard.