Knowing how bold the Senator was in his speculations, he came to him one day with an exciting story.

"There's a guy in town," he said, "who may be just a plain nut, but he has the name of being a scientific sharp who knows his business from A to Izzard, and he's either got something almighty big, or he's got the w.i.l.l.i.e.s.

"What he says is, that he's found gold in a new spot and oodles of it.

According to what he tells, it beats California in '49. It's so big, he says, that he's scared stiff, thinking he can't grab enough of it, and he don't know, no more'n a baby, what to do with it. So he's looking for somebody to take hold of it in a big way and give him a whack."

"Where is this gold?" asked the Senator incredulously.

"That's the funny part of it," says Moran; "it's in Wyoming, and as near as I can make out, it must be close to where that young squirt is that Helen thinks she's stuck on. I'm not sure but what it's on his place, but even if it is, there is no reason why he should have any of it. The expense will be pretty heavy to do the thing up right, but if you're game, I reckon we can hog the whole business. We can stall this scientific nut off with promises, and probably buy off Wade for the price of pasture land, and then file claim on the whole dog-gone tract."

This vision of enormous wealth was captivating to the Senator, who had made his first start in mining and knew something of its possibilities.

Bold as he was, however, he was also cautious, but after several conferences with Moran, he fell in with the scheme, first securing the services of a skilled metallurgist and an equally capable engineer, who were liberally paid and solemnly sworn to secrecy. He sent them out to verify the discoverer's story, and sent Moran to Crawling Water, to establish himself, and to do such preparatory work as should be necessary. In due time, Moran reported by letter that the gold was located, and was beyond question abundant. He was having trouble, however, in getting the property, as Wade refused to sell.

"Of course," he wrote, "we can file mining claims on the ground we know of, and get possession that way, but we want to make more surveys before doing that, so as to be sure of getting all there is, and we can't do that without giving the whole snap away, and filling the mountains full of prospectors. If that d.a.m.n Wade won't sell, I'll find some means to drive him away."

It was just after the receipt of this letter, which filled the Senator with hope on the one hand, and anxiety on the other that he came on Helen one evening, as she was entering her own sitting room, and followed her in for a chat.

"What are you thinking of?" he asked, presently, when she failed to notice some trivial question he had asked, and seemed to be in a reverie.

She looked at him with laughing eyes.

"Crawling Water."

"Gordon Wade, eh? Well, I wouldn't think of him too much. Better let that pa.s.s. You've outgrown it."

"Oh, no I haven't."

The Senator sighed.

"Mother said to me a little while ago, that he was probably going with other girls and forgetting me, and it made me angry."

"Well, I reckon your mother is about right. Gordon is a likely looking chap, you know. I've got nothing against him, except that he isn't good enough for you; no man is. You don't really care so much for him, do you?"

"Oh, don't I?" She viewed her father through half closed lids, in a quizzical way. "I care so very much for him that if I really thought there was another girl, I would go to Crawling Water to-morrow. You'd have to drop everything and take me."

Her father gently pinched her cheek.

"I would, eh? Well, maybe I'll have to go out there anyway. But do you realize what Crawling Water is like,--a rough, frontier town?"

"I wouldn't mind that for a while."

"No, I suppose not. You've got too much of your old dad in you to balk at a few difficulties. There's somebody else out there who'd be mighty glad to see your pretty face. Race Moran."

"Mr. Moran!"

The sudden change in the girl's tone from tenderness to scorn caused the Senator a twinge of uneasiness. His plans were so closely linked with Moran's for the present, that the man might prove dangerous if his love for Helen were too openly scorned. That she could scarcely tolerate him, despite his ability and force of character, her father knew from the past; but even in the moment of his need he did not seek to influence her in Moran's favor. His love for her was genuine and very deep.

"He's been out there for some time, as my agent."

"Yes, I know that. He--he has written to me, although I've never answered his letters. I've been curious to hear from him again, because he promised to send me some kodaks of Crawling Water."

"Maybe he hasn't done so because you've ignored his letters."

Helen's lip curled in disdain.

"He'd never let a little thing like that stop him. But perhaps I will answer the next one, if only to find out what is going on out there.

It's all so very mysterious. Do you know, father,"--She playfully shook her finger at him--"this is the first time in a long while that you haven't taken me into your confidence, and I think it a very ominous sign. I'm sure you'll be punished for it."

The Senator winced at the word punished, and Helen laughed at what she thought was the effect of her raillery.

"Why don't you tell me? You see, I'm so worried about Gordon. Honestly, father, I'm serious about that. I--I love him, and I don't want him hurt."

"Hurt? Why, who is thinking of hurting him?"

"Oh, I don't know. Moran hates him, and has referred to him once or twice in a way that I do not understand. Do tell me all about it."

"Oh, well, my dear, there's really nothing to tell. It's all concerned with some homestead lands out there that I want to get hold of for an investment. Wade will not be hurt, no; that is, he won't be if he beats me out. If I win, he'll lose."

"He will?"

"We both can't win, of course. It's to be a fight, yes,--an amicable business struggle, I hope. There's no reason for it to be otherwise."

The Senator appeared strangely nervous, despite his effort at self-control. "Wade as a man and a Westerner doesn't expect to be fed on pap, you know, any more than I do. May the best man win, that's the way of it."

Helen thought this over for a moment.

"Perhaps I'd better go out there with you, after all," she remarked, half in jest.

Then the Senator thought that over for a moment and left the room.

Next day Helen received a package by mail which proved to contain a dozen clear photographs of Crawling Water and its neighborhood.

First of all, as though Moran thought it most important, was a snapshot of himself, which had been taken, so he wrote on the back of the print, by an obliging cowboy. The girl's face was a study in amused scorn as she looked at the photograph, for which Moran has posed with a cigar in his mouth, his hands in his pockets.

Then there were a number of views of the town itself; of its main street, its hotel, its dance-hall, and of "some of the boys" in various poses of photographic self-consciousness. There were also pictures of the marvelously beautiful countryside, but as she neared the end of them, Helen was disappointed to find none of Wade. "Of course, he wouldn't send me one of _him_," she said petulantly to herself, and she was rapidly running through the remaining prints only to pause suddenly at the very last, while a rosy tide flooded her face and neck.

The little photograph showed a tall, handsome, vigorous looking man, in the garb of a cattleman, half turned in his saddle, with one hand resting on his pony's flank. The man was Wade. With his other hand, he was pointing ahead, apparently for the benefit of a girl--a very good looking girl whose fine head was thrown back, as the wind blew her hair into pretty disorder.

Helen Rexhill had not hitherto experienced real jealousy, but this little photograph excited it. In the highly actinic light of Crawling Water at noon the camera had done its work well, and the figures of the two stood out from the distant background with stereoscopic clearness.

Wade was smiling at the girl, who seemed to be laughing back at him, although her face in the picture was partially turned away, so that Helen got only an impression of charm. But the impression was enough to rouse her jealousy.

On the back of the print, Moran had written:

"A surprise picture of Gordon Wade and our new fellow-townswoman, Miss Dorothy Purnell, whose beauty and general attractiveness have made her the idol of Crawling Water."

CHAPTER IV