Verinder came to time outwardly civil but inwardly fuming. What the deuce did Lady Farquhar mean? Captain Kilmeny would have five hours clear with Miss Dwight and Miss Seldon during the ride back and forth. Ever since the soldier had joined the party things had been going badly. "If we're going it's time you girls were in bed. You've had a hard day and to-morrow will be another," Lady Jim pronounced. The Westerner rose to go. "Night's young yet. Stop and sit in with us to a game of poker. What!" Farquhar invited. "My pocketbook is at the camp," the American demurred. "I'll be your banker," his host volunteered. The ladies said good-night and departed. Chairs were drawn to the card table, chips sold, and hands dealt. The light of morning was breaking before Kilmeny made his way back to camp. He had in his pockets one hundred seventy three dollars, most of which had recently been the property of Dobyans Verinder. An early start for Gunnison had been agreed upon by the fishermen at the camp. To go to bed now was hardly worth while. Jack took a towel from the willow bush upon which it was hanging, went down to the river, stripped, and from a rock ten feet above a deep pool dived straight as an arrow into the black water. The swirl of the current swept him into the shallower stream below. He waded ashore, beautiful in his supple slimness as an Apollo, climbed the rock a second time, and again knew the delightful shock of a dive into icy water fresh from the mountain snows. Ten minutes later he wakened the camp by rattling the stove lids. "Oh, you sluggards! Time to hit the floor," he shouted. CHAPTER IV FUGITIVES FROM JUSTICE At the Lodge too an early breakfast was held, though it was five hours later than the one at the camp. The whole party was down by nine-thirty and was on the road within the hour. The morning was such a one as only the Rockies can produce. The wine of it ran through the blood warm and stimulating. A blue sky flecked with light mackerel clouds stretched from the fine edge of the mountains to the ragged line of hills that cut off the view on the other side. The horses were keen for the road and the pace was brisk. It was not until half the distance had been covered that Joyce, who was riding beside the captain, found opportunity for conversation. "You sat up late, didn't you?" "Early," the soldier laughed. "How did the savage behave himself?" "He went the distance well. We all contributed to the neat little roll he carried away." Kilmeny smiled as he spoke. He was thinking of Verinder, who had made a set against the miner and had tried to drive him out by the size of his raises. The result had been unfortunate for the millionaire. "He has a good deal of assurance, hasn't he?" she asked lightly. The captain hesitated. "Do you think that's quite the word? He fitted in easily--wasn't shy or awkward--that sort of thing, you know--but he wasn't obtrusive at all. Farquhar likes him."