She was a woman from another world, which a horny-handed miner could hardly hope to enter; yet if he won the two treasures, which would make them both rich, the doors would swing open before him. All it needed was a wise choice between the silver and the gold, and destiny would attend to the rest. Well--if he chose the gold he would offend her own father, who was urgently in need of funds; and if he chose the silver he would offend Bible-Back Murray, and Diffenderfer as well. He considered the two claims from every standpoint, looking hopefully about for some sign; and as he stepped to the edge and looked down into the depths, the male eagle left his crag. Riding high on the wind which, striking against the face of the cliff, floated him up into the spaces above; he wheeled in a smooth circle, turning his head from side to side as he watched the invader of his eyrie. And at each turn of his head Denver caught the flash of gold, though he was loath to accept it as a sign. He waited, fighting against it, marshaling reasons to sustain him; and then, folding his wings, the eagle descended like a plummet, shooting past him with a shrill, defiant scream. Denver flinched and stepped back, then he leaned forward eagerly to watch where the bird's flight would take him. No Roman legionary, going into unequal battle with his war eagle wheeling above its standard, ever watched its swift course with higher hopes or believed more fully in the omen. The eagle spread his wings and glided off to the west, flying low as he approached the plain; and as he passed over Pinal and the claim by Queen Creek, Denver laughed and slapped his leg. "It's a go!" he exulted, "the silver wins!" And he bounded off down the trail. CHAPTER XI THE LADY OF THE SYCAMORES A weight like that of Pelion and Ossa seemed lifted from Denver's shoulders as he hurried down from Apache Leap and, with his wallet in his hip pocket, he strode straight to Bunker's house. The eagle had chosen for him, and chosen right, and the last of his troubles was over. There was nothing to do now but buy the claim and make it into a mine--and that was the easiest thing he did. Pulling ground was his specialty--with a good man to help he could break his six feet a day--and now that the choice had been made between the treasures he was tingling to get to work. "Here's your money," he said as soon as Bunker appeared, "and I'd like to order some powder and steel. Just write me out a quit-claim for that ground." "Well, well," beamed Bunker pushing up his reading glasses and counting over the roll of bills, "this will make quite a stake for Drusilla. Come in, Mr. Russell, come in!"