her faded from her mind. For hours she lay sleepless upon her bed,
listening to the rushing mountain stream not far from the cabin, its
arrowy plunge and dash over the rocks softened by distance to a low,
perpetual purr, and hearing the mountain wind sigh through the pines
about the cabin: but not always did her great, dark eyes stare into the
blackness; sometimes she buried her head in the pillow and moaned, and
at last she wept, permitting herself the flood of tears that she had
held in check all day. "Rudolf, Rudolf," was the name upon her lips.




CHAPTER IX


Within a few days Hughie came up to Colina, and through the long, chilly
evenings near the peaks the little, isolated group met in Gallito's
cabin. It was understood in the village that Gallito did not care to
have his seclusion invaded, and this unspoken desire was universally
respected; indeed, it was not questioned. In the solitary places are
many eccentrics; they have escaped the melting pot of the city, and in
the freedom of the desert and the mountains have achieved an unfettered
and unquestioned individuality.

Those who had business dealings with the old Spaniard knew that he was
to be found in places more easy of access than his lonely cabin among
the rocks and trees; at the mine, for instance, of which he was foreman,
the Mont d'Or; or, on an occasional Friday evening, in the village
saloon, where he mingled with the miners, engaging in the eternal and
interminable discussions of local mining affairs. He also kept a horse