The party had obviously left the water for a time, because their track led away from the creek in the valley and the bush was too thick to permit the portaging of canoes. Thirlwell followed the trail until he satisfied himself that they were going east, and then went back to his camp. Finding Agatha at the water's edge he sat down opposite.

"I'm afraid you didn't get much breakfast, but I didn't want the fire lighted," he said, and told her what he had seen.

"Ah!" she cried. "Do you think Stormont is looking for the ore?"

"I think so; I'm not certain."

"But he failed to find it once and nearly starved."

Thirlwell smiled. "I understand the fellow's obstinate. He may have got a fresh clue or found out something we don't know."

"Do you think he has been following us?"

"I don't. If he'd known we were in the neighborhood, he would not have lighted a fire."

"After all," said Agatha thoughtfully, "my father stated that he had staked the claim."

"I'm afraid that doesn't count for much. You're not recognized as prospective owner until your record's filed. I imagine your father's statement would carry some weight, but going to law about a mine is generally an expensive job, and it's hard to put up a good fight against a man with capital."

"Then what are you going to do about it?" Agatha asked anxiously.

"Get away from here at once, and as far as possible keep to the lakes; water carries no trail. Then Stormont has decided a point that has been bothering me--since he's gone east, we must go north or west."

"Yes. Unless it's possible that his clue is better than ours."

"I thought about that," Thirlwell replied. "We don't know if he has a clue, but we'll stick to ours and take the risk. Your father's directions are plain enough if we can find the first of his landmarks."

"Then go west," said Agatha. "I imagine the creek is on this side of the range."

Thirlwell got up and went to see the canoes launched, but he wondered whether Agatha remembered that there were only two or three days of the fortnight left. He thought she did remember, but he resolved that they would not turn back.

Soon after they started, a fresh breeze sprang up from the north-west and the shadows of flying clouds sped across the lake. The sky between the clouds was a curious vivid blue, the light was strong, and the woods along the bank flashed into bright color and faded to somber green as the gleams of sunshine pa.s.sed. For a few minutes, trunks and branches stood out, sharply distinct, and then melted suddenly into their background. By degrees the ripples that lined the lake got larger; there was an angry splashing at the bows of the canoes, and little showers of spray began to fly.

"This clearness means the wind will hold and it's right ahead,"

Thirlwell said to Agatha, "We haven't had much luck of late!"

"The luck will change," she answered, smiling. "I am confident."

"Confidence doesn't cost you much effort," Thirlwell rejoined. "You were persuaded from the beginning that you would find the ore. It looks as if you were naturally optimistic."

"Oh, no! I had my weak moments when I wanted to shirk. I hated to feel I wasn't free like other people, and was willing to throw away my chance of getting rich. But that wouldn't have helped much; I couldn't get rid of the duty."

"You have pluck. For all that, I think you're indulging a rather exaggerated sentiment. Anyhow, it's hard to imagine you have had many doubts since we left the mine."

"I've had none. When you found the tobacco-box I knew I would succeed.

There was something strangely significant about your finding it."

"I happened to look in the right place," said Thirlwell, dryly.

Agatha laughed. "You take a very matter-of-fact view."

"Perhaps so," Thirlwell agreed. "If I were steeped in sentiment, it wouldn't help me drive the canoe faster against a head-wind or carry a heavier load across a portage. That's a purely mechanical proposition.

In the meantime, we're slowing up and will soon begin to drift astern."

"Then paddle," said Agatha, smiling. "After all, you're much more of a sentimentalist than I think you know."

Thirlwell bent over his paddle and the canoe forged ahead, but the breeze freshened, and the ripples changed to crested waves. Agatha's face was wet, her slicker dripped, and the men breathed hard between the strokes. They labored on, and at noon ran the canoes aground in the lee of a rocky island. Thirlwell ordered the _Metis_ to use nothing but dry driftwood, which makes little smoke, for the fire, and when they rested after a meal found Drummond sitting alone outside the camp. He looked moody and his eyes were fixed on the height of land.

"Feeling bothered about something?" Thirlwell asked.

"Yes," said Drummond. "I'm trying to get back all the old man told me about Strange's tale. He only talked about it once, when he was sick.

Looks as if he hadn't thought the lode a business proposition, and I didn't _then_. Besides, I was anxious and didn't listen much. Part of it came back afterwards, but not all. There's something I can't get."

"That's unlucky," Thirlwell remarked in a dry tone. "We need a hint."

"I reckoned I'd get it when I saw the country," Drummond went on. "I allow we're not far enough yet."

Thirlwell made a sign of disagreement. "Strange said the creek ran south and then turned east. I imagine there isn't another neighborhood where that's likely to happen. If we cross the divide, I expect we'll find the water running north."

"Well," said Drummond moodily, "you'd better leave me alone. There's something--if I'm quiet, I may get what I'm feeling for." He knitted his brows and a curious fixed look came into his eyes. "I know it's not far off, but I miss it when I'm just getting on the track."

Thirlwell left him and smiled half impatiently as he went back across the rocks. He had sometimes been puzzled, and sometimes amused, by Agatha's confidence, and now Drummond, who had given him no help so far, talked about an elusive clue. It looked as if both allowed their imagination too much rein, and trusted to vague feelings instead of their reasoning powers. Give him a compa.s.s bearing, or a definite base-line to calculate an angle from, and he would engage to take the party to the required spot; but he had frankly no use for the other thing. Yet he sometimes wondered--there was a calm a.s.surance in Agatha's eyes. If this was not founded on superst.i.tion, from what did it spring?

They launched again in the afternoon, and reached the head of the lake wet and tired. Thirlwell did not talk much after supper, but sat by the fire, smoking, for some time after Agatha went to her tent. He had, in fact, been rather silent for the last few days. Now they were near the end of their journey he did not know if he wanted Agatha to find the lode or not. When they started he had imagined that the search would lead to nothing, and had gone because her society had a charm and he wanted to free her mind of a dangerous illusion. But he could no longer think the lode an illusion. The silver was there, and if one searched long enough, could, no doubt, be found.

This was somehow disturbing, but with a half-conscious wish to shirk the truth he would not inquire bluntly why it disturbed him. He wanted the girl to be happy, and had thought it best for her that she should give up the attempt to find the lode. Now he must readjust his views, and it was hard to see what place there would be for him in her affairs if she became the owner of a rich mining claim.

Next morning they made a difficult portage to another lake, and launching the canoes at noon found the wind blowing fresh. The lake was wide, and when by and by an angry sea got up Thirlwell reluctantly steered for the shelter of a rocky point. They had covered very little ground since they started, and there was only another day of the fortnight left. After supper some of the men went fishing, and Drummond set off alone along the beach, while Agatha and Thirlwell sat among the rocks where the pungent wood-smoke drifted past and kept the mosquitoes off. The sun had set and the air was very clear; they could see the ragged pines across the lake, but the trees on the point behind them cut off their view to the north.

Presently Drummond came back, running fast, and stopped in front of Agatha. His eyes sparkled and the sweat ran down his face.

"What's the matter?" Thirlwell asked. "Have the timber wolves got after you?"

"The _broken range_!" Drummond gasped. "Get up, Miss Strange, and come right along!"

Agatha looked at Thirlwell, who smiled. "I don't know what he means, but perhaps we had better go."

They followed the lad for some distance, though the shingle was large and rough. Now and then he turned and looked back impatiently, as if they were not coming fast enough; but at length he stopped and indicated the high ground to the north. Its bold line, colored a soft blue, stood out against the yellow sky, and in one place there was a sharply defined gap.

"There!" he exclaimed breathlessly. "I guess that's the _broken range_!"

"I see the break," said Thirlwell. "What about it?"

"Don't embarra.s.s him," Agatha interrupted. "It's something he remembers.

Perhaps his father talked about the gap."

"He did," said Drummond. "The thing's been kind of floating in my mind all day, but I couldn't get it fixed. Then I saw that gap and knew I'd got what I'd been feeling for."

"What did your father say?"