When his mate had disappeared, Madison remained sitting by the fire, staring meditatively into its red depths. He was not thinking of gold just then, but of a golden-haired girl who was thousands of miles away, little dreaming of the unexpected fate that had befallen him. He wondered what Laura was doing, if she was happy and successful. She had written in rather discouraging tone, saying it seemed impossible to find the right kind of engagement, but of course that was long ago, at the beginning of the season. Letters took so long to come from New York. By this time she must have found something she liked, and in which she could do herself justice. He did not like to see her on the stage. It was an artificial, unhealthy life. He had intended, when they were married, taking her away from her former surroundings for good. It would not be necessary for her to earn her living. He could have made enough for both. When they were married! What cruel irony that sounded now. Perhaps she would never hear of his fate. Inquiries would be made at Goldfield and search parties might be sent to scour the brush, but it would be too late. They would find only their dead bodies, picked clean by the birds of prey. How happy he might have been. After all his many years, he at last had found a girl who really cared for him, a girl who was willing to give up everything for his sake, a girl whose firmness of character he could not help but respect. What had he cared what her past had been? The very fact that she had been willing to abandon her luxurious way of living, and endure comparative poverty for his sake, was proof enough of her sincerity. He had hoped she would not have to make a sacrifice long. One day he thought he would make a lucky "strike" and go back laden with gold, which he would pour into her lap. How delighted and surprised she would have been. He would have given her a fine house, automobiles, beautiful gowns, precious jewels, everything money can buy. Nothing would have been too good to reward her weary months of waiting. And now---- Rising wearily to his feet, he threw some more wood on the fire, and then snatching up a short steel pick, proceeded in the direction opposite to that taken by Branigan. He soon reached the foothills, and began work scraping the moss-covered rocks, striking deep into boulders, turning over the soil, his eye watchful for a glimpse of glittering gold particles. He toiled for a couple of hours, till his hands were blistered and his muscles ached. There was no sign of his companion. He hollered several times at the top of his voice, but receiving no response, he concluded that Bill, in his prospecting, had wandered farther away than he intended. There was no reason for uneasiness. If he did not return soon, he would go in search of him. As he toiled on mechanically, he pondered: