"Oh, the shamelessness of it!" she exclaimed as before, "--the way it looks! And to think of what you dared to do to me!" "Yes, I kissed you without your asking," he confessed. "I expect to kiss you a hundred thousand times. I expect to make you my wife--for a love like ours is rare. Whatever else you think you want to say, Beth--now--don't say it--unless it's just good-night." With a sudden move forward he took her two shoulders in his powerful hands and gave her a rough little shake. Then his palms went swiftly to her face, he kissed her on the lips, and let her go. "You!--Oh!" she cried, and turning she ran down the slope of the hill as hard as she could travel. He watched her going in the moonlight. Even her shadow was beautiful, he thought, but all his joy was grave. She disappeared within the house, without once turning to see what he had done. He could not know that from one of the darkened windows she presently peered forth and watched him depart from the hill. He was not so assured as he had tried to make her think, and soberness dwelt within his breast. Half an hour later he and old Dave were riding up the mountain in the moonlight. The night from the eminence was glorious, now that the town was left behind. Goldite lay far below in the old dead theatre of past activities, dotting the barren immensity with its softened lights like the little thing it was. How remote it seemed already, with its vices, woes, and joys, its comedy and tragedy, its fevers, strifes, and toil, disturbing nothing of the vast serenity of the planet, ever rolling on its way. How coldly the moon seemed looking on the scene. And yet it had cast a shadow of a girl to set a man aflame. Meantime Bostwick had been delayed in securing McCoppet's attention. The town was still excited over all that had happened; the saloons were full of men. Culver had been an important person, needful to many of the miners and promoters of mining. His loss was an aggravation, especially as his deputy, Lawrence, was away. The more completely to allay suspicions that might by any possibility creep around the circle to himself, McCoppet had been the camp's most active figure in organizing a posse, with the sheriff, to go out and capture Cayuse. His reasons for desiring the half-breed's end were naturally strong, nevertheless his active partisanship of law and justice excited no undesirable talk. He was simply an influential citizen engaged in a laudable work. It was late when at length he and Bostwick could snatch a few minutes to themselves. The gambler's first question then was something of a puzzle to Bostwick. "Well, have you got that thirty thousand?" "Got it? Yes, I've got it," Bostwick answered nervously, "but what is the good of it now?" It was McCoppet's turn to be puzzled. "Anything gone wrong with Van Buren, or his claim?" "Good heavens! Isn't it sufficient to have things all gone wrong with Culver? What could be worse than that?"