"Just the other side of the Peak!" What magic in those words, spoken from time to time by one and another of the Springtown people. "Just the other side of the Peak!" Marietta would say to herself, lifting to the noble mountain eyes bright with an interest such as he in his grandest mood had never awakened there before. Suppose the "Horn of Plenty" should go to a dollar!--to five dollars,--to ten dollars,--to twenty-five dollars! Her mind took the leap with ease and confidence. Had not Bill Sanders said that there were forty millions in it, and had he not seen the mine with his own eyes? Marietta had a mental picture of a huge mountain of solid gold, and when, to complete the splendor of the impression, men talked of "free gold," the term seemed to her to signify a buoyant quality, the quality of pouring itself out in spontaneous plenty. She heard much talk of this kind, for the "H. O. P." was the topic of the hour, and her customers discussed it among themselves. Forty millions almost in plain sight! That was forty dollars a share, and she had five hundred shares! And all this time she was thinking, not of wealth and luxury, but only of a snug cottage in a side street, where there should be two windows in the sitting-room, where she might sit and chat with Jim while she made her flower-books, planning what they should do when he got well. How little she asked; how reasonable it was, how fair! And if only the "H. O. P." were to go to five dollars a share she would venture it. Meanwhile people were bidding forty-five cents, and Inches had called twice in one morning to ask if she would not sell at that price. "What makes them want it so much?" she asked on the occasion of his second visit. "Oh, just an idea they've got that it's going higher," Inches answered indifferently. "Well, s'posing it is; why should I want to sell?" "Why, you'd have made a pretty good thing in it, and you might like to have your bird in hand, don't you know?" Marietta sat down to her flower-books and worked on composedly, while Inches still lingered. "That's a real pretty painting of the Peak over there," he remarked presently, nodding his head toward a crude representation of that much-travestied mountain. Marietta knew better, but she said nothing. "What do you ask for that now?" he persisted. "Oh, I guess about a hundred dollars," she returned facetiously. "The Peak comes high now-a-days, 'cause Lame Gulch is right round on the other side." There was another pause before the broker spoke again. "Then, s'posing I could get you forty-six cents for your stock, would you take it? That's rather above the market price, you know." "'Taint up to my price," said Marietta, trying to make a group of painter's brush look artistic. "What would you take for it then?" asked Inches. Marietta put down her work and drew herself up, to rest her back, and make an end of the interview at a blow.