"I'm used to it. Now I think that we can face the hill."

He seized the rein, and after a flounder or two the pony started the load
and struggled up the ascent. Leaving the woman at the top, voluble with
thanks, Vane came down and sauntered on again with Mabel.

"I made sure you would drop that bag until I saw how you got hold of it,
and then I knew you would manage," she informed him. "You see, I've
watched the men at Scarside mill. I didn't want you to drop it."

"I wonder why?" laughed Vane.

"If you do, you must be stupid. We're friends, aren't we? I like my
friends to be able to do anything that other folks can. That's partly why
I took to you."

Vane made her a ceremonious bow and they went on, chatting lightly. When
they came to a sweep of climbing moor, they changed companions, for Mabel
led Carroll off in search of plants and ferns. Farther on, Evelyn sat
down upon a heathy bank, and Vane found a place on a stone beside a
trickling rill.

"It's pleasant here, and I like the sun," she explained. "Besides, it's
still a good way to the top, and I generally feel discontented when I get
there. There are other peaks much higher--one wants to go on."

Vane smiled in comprehension.

"Yes," he agreed. "On and always on! It's the feeling that drives the
prospector. We seem to have the same thoughts on a good many points."