Reynolds smiled as he thrust the letter into his pocket, The editor
called his trip north a "wild-goose chase." He little knew that it was
a chase of a different kind, and the bird was a fascinating girl. "I
guess I shall have to tell Harmon that the bird I'm after is not a wild
goose, but a new species, found solely up here, and with only one known
specimen in existence. But I must write to him, anyway, and tell him
something about my doings and the life at Big Draw."

In an adjoining room men were playing cards. Reynolds entered and
stood watching them, especially Curly, who was deep in a game. He was
evidently losing heavily, and he was in a bad frame of mind. As
Reynolds stood and watched him, he began to wonder when the fellow had
first met Glen. Was it on the trail, or had Curly ventured beyond the
Golden Crest? It pleased him to know that the girl disliked the man,
and how she wished that the fog-bank had not lifted just when it did.
He longed to know what was in Curly's mind. Would he attempt to meet
the girl again? That he was capable of the basest villainy, he had not
the shadow of a doubt. Frontier Samson had told him as much, and the
old prospector apparently knew whereof he spoke. It was not safe for
Glen to travel alone among the hills, he mused. She was in danger of
meeting a worse brute than the raging grizzly she had encountered that
afternoon.

As Reynolds thought of these things he kept his eyes fixed intently
upon Curly's face, not realising that he was staring so hard. But
Curly did, and glancing up several times from his cards, he met those
steady, inscrutable eyes. At first it annoyed him, making him nervous
and impatient. He wondered what the quiet, reserved fellow meant by