"No, not to-day, thank you," Keith replied. "I have had so much enjoyment this afternoon, that I feel quite intoxicated. I must get back to my cabin and do some translationary work. Spring will soon be here, so I want to get the task finished and off in the first boat."
Keith had been engaged for some time upon the Psalms, and had reached the one hundred and twenty-first. Generally it was easy for him to concentrate his mind upon his task, and hours would slip quickly by. But to-day it was different. "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills," he began, and then tried to write. Instead of the Indian words slipping from beneath his pen, he found himself sketching a fair face upon the white sheet before him. So absorbed was he at this pleasant occupation that time moved unheeded by. He was at length startled by a loud rap upon the door, and quickly turning the sketch face downwards upon the table called to the visitor to come in. At once a young man entered, and cast a curious glance around the snug room.
"Mr. Steadman," he began, "you're wanted at the store. There's trouble on hand. Tim Fleeters had a poke of gold stolen from his cabin, and a miners' meeting has been called to see what's to be done."
"Certainly I will go," replied Keith. "Will you wait for me?"
"No, I must hurry on; I have more calls to make," and with that he was away.
Before leaving, Keith lifted the drawing from the table and placed it in a strong chest in one corner of the room.
"There, if anyone should enter during my absence nothing will be left to tell how I have spent the afternoon."
As he moved along the path leading to the store, Pritchen crept out from behind an adjacent building and watched the missionary until his tall figure was out of sight. Then with a low chuckle he moved towards the light shining through the window from the candle which Keith in his hurry had forgotten to extinguish. Drawing near he peered cautiously into the room, but could observe no one within. To be surer, he knocked, and, receiving no response, opened the door and entered.
"Ha, ha," he muttered half aloud, as he glanced swiftly around the room. "Snug place this. Nice books there. But you'll learn something soon, my hearty, not found in those pages. Now a place for these."
As he spoke he drew from beneath his coat a heavy poke of gold, and also an empty one, on which appeared the two letters, "K. R." Presently his eye caught sight of the chest.