It shocked Donnegan into realization that for all her calm exterior she
was perfectly aware of the danger of her position in the wild mining
camp. She must know, also, that her reputation would be compromised; yet
never once had she winced, and Donnegan was filled with wonder as he
went down the hill toward the camp which was spread beneath him; for
their tents were a little detached from the main body of the town.
Behind her gentle eyes, he now felt, and under the softness of her
voice, there was the same iron nerve that was in her father. Her hatred
could be a deathless passion, and her love also; and the great question
to be answered now was, did she truly love Jack Landis?

The Corner at night was like a scene at a circus. There was the same
rush of people, the same irregular flush of lights, the same glimmer of
lanterns through canvas, the same air of impermanence. Once, in one of
those hushes which will fall upon every crowd, he heard a coyote wailing
sharply and far away, as though the desert had sent out this voice to
mock at The Corner and all it contained.

He had only to ask once to discover where Landis was: Milligan's dance
hall. Before Milligan's place a bonfire burned from the beginning of
dusk to the coming of day; and until the time when that fire was
quenched with buckets of water, it was a sign to all that the merriment
was under way in the dance hall. If Lebrun's was the sun of the
amusement world in The Corner, Milligan's was the moon. Everybody who
had money to lose went to Lebrun's. Every one who was out for gayety
went to Milligan's. Milligan was a plunger. He had brought up an
orchestra which demanded fifteen dollars a day and he paid them that and
more. He not only was able to do this, but he established a bar at the
entrance from which all who entered were served with a free drink. The