"Spoke up like a fool!" Ray answered. "Not till this man is dead or out of the country. It's well hidden, and don't go prowling anywheres near it. If he's the least bit suspicious, or even if he's on the lookout for gold, he'd likely enough follow you. But there's one thing we can do--and that quick." "And what's that?" "Start Chan off to-morrow to the office in Bradleyburg and record this claim in our names. We've waited too long already." "Ray, you're talking like a man now," Neilson agreed. "You and I stay here and work away, innocent as can be, on the claim. Chan, put that bottle away and get to bed. Take the trail down first thing to-morrow. Then we can laugh at all the prospectors that want to come." XVII Soon after the break of dawn Ben put his pick and shovel on his shoulder, and leisurely walked up the creek past Ray's cabin. Since Chan Heminway had already departed down the long trail to Bradleyburg--a town situated nearly forty miles from Snowy Gulch--Ray alone saw him pass; and he eyed him with some apprehension. Daylight had brought a more vivid consciousness of his last night's crime; and a little of his bravado had departed from him. He moved closer to his rifle. Yet in a moment his suspicions were allayed. Ben was evidently a prospector, just as he claimed to be, and was venturing forth to get his first "lay of the land." The latter continued up the draw, crossed a ridge, halted now and then in the manner of the wild creatures to see if he were being followed, and finally by a roundabout route returned to the lifeless form of his only friend. The wolf still trotted in silence behind him. The vivid morning light only revealed the crime in more dreadful detail. The withered form lay huddled in the stained leaves; and Ben stood a long time beside it, in deep and wondering silence, even now scarcely able to believe the truth. How strange it was that this old comrade could not waken and go on with him again! But in a moment he remembered his work. Slowly, laboriously, with little outward sign of the emotion that rent his heart, he dug a shallow grave He knew perfectly that this was a serious risk to his cause. Should the murderer return for any purpose, to his dead, the grave would of course show that the body had been discovered and would put him on his guard against Ben. Nevertheless, the latter could not leave these early remains to the doubtful mercy of the wilderness: the agents of air and sun, and the wild beasts. He threw the last clod and stood looking down at the upturned earth. "Sleep good, old Ez," he murmured in simple mass for the dead. "I'll do what you said." Then, at the head of the grave, he thrust the barrel of Ezram's rifle into the ground, a monument grim as his own thoughts. The last rite was completed; he was free to work now. From now on he could devote every thought to the work in hand,--the payment of his debts.