CHAPTER XIV
After the horses had been given up and sent back, Lou, by Dan's arrangement, continued the journey on the sled of some men who were not properly of the stampeders, but were bound for Malamute. Dan himself, hardy as he was, had no difficulty in keeping up the pace with the best of the travelers on foot. He carried snow-shoes—for which he had no present need as the crust held—and a light pack on his back. The others of the stampeders regarded him as one of themselves, without ulterior purpose beyond the legitimate finding of gold somewhere in the creek-beds, or within the ledges of the mountains. Only Lou guessed aught of the evil project cherished by her husband. She had little compunction, for her sensibilities had become hardened with the passage of the years, and she had long ceased to regard herself as in any wise the keeper of Dan's conscience.
Dan himself, as always, had no scruples, though he meant to add yet another to the list of his crimes. He went warily to his work. He held Sam Ward under close observation, but so discreetly that the victim of his watchfulness had no hint of it. As the train straggled out toward nightfall, Dan contrived to be near his intended victim, though not in company with him. Because of the information gathered by Lou, that the miner meant to steal away from the others during the night, Dangerous Dan had determined to keep a vigil during the hours of darkness, so that, when the miner slipped away by stealth, thinking himself unobserved by any one, he would be able to follow as stealthily, and thus to trace the owner to the secret mine.
To one of Dangerous Dan McGrew's accomplishments the task was very simple. The night was clear, and he became aware at once when Sam Ward prepared to set forth. He allowed the miner to proceed for a considerable distance before following. Against the white surface of the snow, the moving form was distinguishable for a long way, and, since it alone in the expanse moved at all, it was not to be mistaken. But, while the miner was so distinctly visible to his pursuer, Dan McGrew had little fear of being himself observed, since no eyes were seeking his presence there. So, separated by a considerable distance, the two men advanced through the night, ascending at a smart pace from the level reaches of the valley to the lower slopes of the mountains. Here the spruce cast black shade, and often gorges lay deep in shadow. Dan was forced to lessen the distance between himself and the one he followed. Often, he was hard put to it to keep close enough on his quarry to be sure of the man's movements, without revealing his own presence on the trail. Some risks he took, since needs must. But the danger of discovery did not trouble Dangerous Dan, for he had never lacked courage, whatever his other vices.
It was in the gray of the dawn when at last Sam Ward halted, with a grunt of satisfaction, which the listening man, crouched behind a stump fifty yards away, plainly heard through the motionless chill air. The miner cast off the pack that he had carried throughout most of the day and all of the night, and began hasty preparations for pitching camp.... It was evident that Sam Ward had reached his destination.
Assured that this was the end of the journey, Dangerous Dan silently withdrew to a sheltered nook within the trees, a full quarter of a mile from the other's camp. Here he built a fire, without any fear of its light being seen by Sam Ward; for, besides the screen of trees, a high ridge intervened between the two camps. Dan, owing to the unusual mildness of the night, did not trouble with piling green logs against which to stack his fire, but contented himself with selecting a spot where a steep bank at his back aided in the retention of the heat.
Tired as he was, Dangerous Dan gathered sufficient fuel ready at hand, so that he might replenish the blaze, arousing instinctively from sleep as the flames died down. He guessed that the miner would sleep late, after the fatigue of the trip. But he allowed himself only two hours of rest; for he had yet much to do, and weariness must await leisure. Dan McGrew could sacrifice selfish desires for the time being in order to attain to selfish ends.
The sun was well above the horizon, when Dan McGrew at last arose reluctantly, and stamped out the dying embers. He rolled up his pack, but left it where he had camped. He carried a revolver with him, but he had no intention of using it, lest the report attract the attention of some chance prospector in the vicinity. He was not quite sure, even, that he meditated violence—it might not be necessary. But, before setting forth, he drew from its sheath, hidden within his bosom, a long, wicked-looking knife, the blade of which he examined approvingly, testing its edge with a bare thumb. When he had returned the weapon to its place of concealment, he went forward very cautiously, his feet leaving hardly a trace of their passage over the snow-crust. He took advantage of the shelter afforded by bushes and trees, so that his approach might not be detected. Thus, he came finally to a vantage point behind a clump of bushes, which grew on a little knoll. Below this, hardly a score of yards away, was Sam Ward's camp.
The miner was just arousing from sleep, when Dan reached this point of observation. While the hidden man watched attentively, Sam Ward replenished the fire, and hastily prepared a breakfast, which he devoured even more hastily. Forthwith, then, he set about the serious business of the day. To the watcher's surprise, the miner removed a heap of firewood, which had been stacked against the sloping bank, some distance above a tiny frozen stream. When the branches had been thrown aside, there was revealed an opening through the snow, and on into the earth itself. It was evident that the miner had already tunneled into the ledge.
Now, he got dynamite from his pack, and set it carefully where it might thaw out within the radius of heat from the fire. Thereafter, he crawled into the tunnel, and was occupied out of the watcher's sight for some time. On emergence, he examined the dynamite, and, satisfied with its condition, took it, along with caps and fuse, on his return into the tunnel. This time, he was gone for only a short interval. Presently, came a dull rumble as the explosive detonated within the earth. The miner reëntered the tunnel, carrying a bag. When he brought this forth, he was staggering under the weight it contained.
DAN McGREW, STARING DOWN WITH HUNGRY EYES, SAW THE MINER.
Dan McGrew, staring down with hungry eyes, saw the miner pound the fragments of rock to powder in a roughly contrived mortar, which was set beside the fire. Dangerous Dan had learned enough of gold-mining to understand that the miner had chanced on a quartz lead of the richest sort. Undoubtedly, it was a vein of considerable size which would assay thousands of dollars to the ton. It was free-milling ore. The rough method employed by the miner was sufficient to secure the golden treasure. Now, when he had made an end of crushing the bits of rock, Sam descended to the creek, where he chopped a hole through the ice, and so, after great labor, was able to winnow the dust. Dan McGrew was able to see the golden stream of tiny flakes that the miner at last poured into his poke, with chuckles of glee. The watcher's steady eyes narrowed and grew savage, for black envy and avarice filled his heart. Of a sudden, his vague purpose became crystallized.... He would have this mine for his own—at any cost.
Dangerous Dan looked over the scene carefully, as he made his plans. The little stream, above which the miner had encamped, ran straight between shallow banks out into a broad valley beyond. Dan was sure that he could advance to a point on the slope where he would be just above his unsuspecting prey. Thence, he could drop down on the miner, who, all unconscious of any peril, squatted before the fire gloating over his treasure. A single blow of the knife would put a term to his ownership of the mine. Afterward, it would be a simple matter to conceal the body in some cranny where only the wolves would be likely to scent it out. And Dan McGrew would have the treasure-house for his own.
His decision made, Dan acted upon it at once. It came about according to his calculations—with two exceptions:
The first was that, as he leaped upon his victim from behind, some faintest sound of movement, or some subtle instinct in the victim, gave warning. Sam Ward sprang to his feet, whirling as he rose. The lust of gold was in him, too. On the instant, he understood the death that threatened and the cause of it. He fought for his life and his gold with all the strength that was in him. He got his hands to his assailant's throat, and the fingers clutched in a clutch meant to kill. Dangerous Dan's eyes goggled from his head as he strangled within that grip. But he did not forget, even in his anguish, either his purpose or his advantage. He thrust the knife with all his power into the miner's breast. For a second that seemed to endure for an eternity, Dan was still held in the vice-like grasp. Then abruptly, there came a gurgling moan from Sam Ward's lips. The clenched fingers relaxed. Dan thrust the form of his adversary from him. The haft of the knife, which he still held in his right hand, was broken from the blade by the wrench of the inert body, as it fell and went limply sliding down the slope toward the creek.
HE FOUGHT FOR HIS LIFE AND HIS GOLD WITH ALL THE STRENGTH THAT WAS IN HIM.
Dan McGrew gazed on the grim descent with eyes that were dull still from the deadly grapple. His breath came in sobs. He was triumphant, but he realized how close he had been to failure.
Then, a minute later, when his brain and his sight were clear again, he suddenly uttered a frightful curse....
In the wide expanse of the valley into which the creek flowed, a sled moved rapidly, as the dogs strained in their harness. And it was coming straight toward the creek—toward the place where he stood. Dangerous Dan McGrew cursed yet once again—and more horribly. Then, he leaped down the slope to where the dead body had halted. He stooped over it—searched with desperate rapidity. A moment later, with the poke of gold and a few papers from the dead man, Dangerous Dan raced back up the bank, and on, flying from the spot where he had committed a crime so great for a reward so small.