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Updated: June 9, 2025
"What do you advise me to do?" He ignored her question, demanding: "Say, is your name Kent? Glenmore Kent?" Beth felt her heart begin new gymnastics. This was her cue. "Why, yes. But how did you know know me?" "I've met your sister, in Goldite. You can't get to Starlight to-night." She had passed muster! A herd of wild emotions were upon her.
She was certain now that the mountains towards which she was fleeing were away from the Goldite direction. Once more she changed her course. She realized then that such efforts as these must soon defeat themselves. At least she must stick to one direction go on in a line as straight as possible, till she came to something! Yet if she chose her direction wrong and went miles away from anything
It urged him, in case he had arrived in Goldite, to hasten southward forthwith "and bring a bunch of money." Glenmore's letters always appealed for money a fact which Bostwick had remembered. The man sat down at his table and wrote a letter to himself.
The fact was recalled that Cayuse, the half-breed murderer of Culver, was as yet unreported from the hills. The sheriff, who had ridden day and night, in quest of either of the "wanted" men, came back to Goldite from a week's excursion, packed full of hardships, vigilance, and work, to renew his force and make another attempt. He offered a job to Van.
"I suppose you have friends to whom you are going in Goldite," he said, " or at least there's someone you know." "Yes," she answered, "my brother." Van looked at her in his quizzical way, observing: "I don't believe I know him." Her glance was almost one of laughter. "Why, how can you tell? You don't even know his name." She paused, then added quietly: "It's Glenmore Kent."
"You'll have to remain at the claim till somewhere near noon, then I'll show you the way down to Goldite." "Till noon?" She looked at him steadily, a light of worry in her eyes as she thought of arriving so late at Mrs. Dick's, with what consequences the Lord alone knew. "I can't get away much earlier," he said, and to this, by way of acting his part, he added: "Do you want to wear me out?"
She tried to fashion explanations but they would not entirely fit. Searle had been gone three days. He had gone before the Goldite News was issued. The paper had arrived at Glen's while the man in his car had failed. For a moment she sickened with the reflection that Searle might once more have fallen captive to the convicts, still at large and with all the money!
She had begun to feel, perhaps partially by intuition, that something was altogether wrong. Searle's anxiety to assure her she need not write to Glen that he was coming to Goldite had provided the one required element to excite a new trend in her thought. She knew that Glen would not come soon to town. She knew she must get him word.
"Now, how can anybody tell you that?" demanded McCoppet, who from his place here in Goldite had engineered the plan whereby his and Bostwick's expert prospectors could explore every inch of the Government's forbidden land in advance of all competitors. "We're taking a flyer, that's all. If there's anything there we're on." Bostwick reflected for a moment.
When his three old partners went away to their work at four o'clock in the afternoon, a wire had come from far out north that a man who was competent to run the line was starting for Goldite forthwith. The moonless night, at ten o'clock, found Van alone at his tent. From the top of the hill whereon he had camped a panoramic view of all the town swung far in both directions.
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