must be away early in the mornin', remember."

"What! are you going my way?" Reynolds eagerly asked.

"Sure; if ye'd like to have me along. I'm bound fer Big Draw meself."

It was just what Reynolds desired. He liked the old prospector, and
now that he had confided to him his tale of love, he was drawn closer
than ever to this wandering veteran of the trails.




CHAPTER VI

A SHOT THAT TOLD

The life at Big Draw mining camp on Scupper Creek did not appeal to
Reynolds. He watched the men at work upon their various claims, and
noted how meagre was their success. They toiled like slaves, lured on
by the hope of a rich strike that never came. The principal place of
meeting was the roadhouse, where "Shorty" Bill held sway. He lodged
men, served meals, and conducted a bar. He was a good-hearted fellow,
rough and uncouth, but well liked by all, and a genial companion. It
was, therefore, but natural that at this place many of the men should
congregate at night, and at times during the day, for a brief respite
from their labors. It was here, too, that news would occasionally
drift in from the outside world, which would be discussed by the men as
they played cards, the only amusement for which they seemed to care.
When the mail arrived, as it did at irregular intervals, all work on