The gulch had been formed by a cataclysm that had split a mountain when the world was young. On the north side of the gulch was the El Dorado Mine that was making a fortune for its owners. Pop Howes believed that the El Dorado lode extended through the whole mountain, on the south as well as the north side of the gulch, and that if he could run his shaft down another hundred feet, to the same level as the El Dorado shaft, he, too, would strike a rich, ore-bearing vein. Jim Allen, who had accompanied Pop from town, glanced with ready sympathy at the old man's brooding face. "So the bank wouldn't give yuh a nickel?" he asked. "Not a nickel, darn 'em! They was only too glad to loan me five thousand last year, but now they acts as if I was wantin' to steal money from 'em!" Pop cried wrathfully. "Maybe they figger if they don't lend yuh no money they'll get the mine an' a fortune on the mortgage," the ragged one said thoughtfully. "Of course that's it. That young fellow that they sent here knew his onions; he spent a week measurin' an' clippin' rock from this side an' then goin' over yonder an' doin' the same thing," Pop sputtered. "An' if it hadn't been for them darned quartz thieves what cleaned me out last week, I'd never have had to ask the bank for no money!" The two reached the house and entered a long, low room where they found Mrs. Howes waiting for them. She was a thin, frail woman of fifty. Her face was lined and her hair snow-white, but her eyes still had the cheerful courage of the woman who has been taught by life to take the good with the bad. One look at her husband's face and she knew his trip to the county seat had been unsuccessful. Experience had taught her that disappointment is easier to bear on a full stomach, so she bustled into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a dish of venison stew. She placed this on the table and added a plate of hot biscuits and a pot of coffee. When the men returned from washing up she had already piled their plates high with the steaming stew. Pop Howes slumped into his chair and gloomily told himself he was to lose the chance of a fortune, after thirty years' labor, for the lack of only a few dollars. It was not that he minded so much for himself, but his wife, who had stood by him through all sorts of hardships, loneliness, and the bitterest poverty, deserved some reward. Not that she had ever complained, though he had noticed at times a wistful look in her eyes and even the traces of tears. He knew that she wanted to visit again those relatives of hers in the East whom she had not seen since the days of her marriage. And recently, when they had thought they would soon strike the lode, soon have money, she had looked forward to it with a new longing. Hardly had the two men finished their dinner when a messenger arrived with the news that a miners' meeting was to be held that evening at the hotel.