E-text prepared by Al Haines
by
Author of
"The Devils Own," "Beyond the Frontier," "When Wilderness Was King,"
Etc.
A. L. Burt Company
Publishers New York
Published by arrangement with George H. Doran Company
Copyright, 1918,
by Randall Parrish
Printed in the United States of America
For the second time that night Frederick Cavendish, sitting at a smalltable in a busy café where the night life of the city streamedcontinually in and out, regarded the telegram spread out upon the whitenapery. It read:
Bear Creek, Colorado, 4/2/15.
FREDERICK CAVENDISH,
College Club,
New York City.
Found big lead; lost it again. Need you badly.
For the second time that night, too, a picture rose before him, apicture of great plains, towering mountains, and open spaces that spokethe freedom and health of outdoor living. He had known that life oncebefore, when he and Jim Westcott had prospected and hit the trailtogether, and its appeal to him now after three years of shallowsightseeing in the city was deeper than ever.
"Good old Jim," he murmured, "struck pay-dirt at last only to lose itand he needs me. By George, I think I'll go."
And why should he not? Only twenty-nine, he could still afford tospend a few years in search of living. His fortune left him at thedeath of his father was safely invested, and he had no close friends inthe city and no relatives, except a cousin, John Cavendish, for whom heheld no love, and little regard.
He had almost determined upon going to Bear Creek to meet Westcott andwas calling for his check when his attention was arrested by a noisyparty of four that boisterously took seats at a near-by table.Cavendish recognised the two women as members of the chorus of theprevailing Revue, one of them Celeste La Rue, an aggressive blonde withthin lips and a metallic voice, whose name was synonymous with midnightescapades and flowing wine. His contemptuous smile at the sight ofthem deepened into a disgusted sneer when he saw that one of the menwas John Cavendish,