"Your father was among the first of those who stampeded to Bonanza. He
and Strong took up a claim together. I bought out the interest of your
father."
"You told me that."
His masterful eyes fastened to hers. "I didn't tell you that I took
advantage of him. He was--not well. I used that against him in the
bargaining. He wanted ready money, and I tempted him."
"Do you mean that you--wronged him?"
"Yes. I cheated him." He was resolved to gloss over nothing, to offer no
excuses. "I didn't know there was gold on his claim, but I had what we
call a hunch. I took his claim without giving value received."
It was her turn now to look into the fire and think. From the letters
of her father, from talks with old-timers she knew how in the stampedes
every man's hand had been for himself, how keen-edged had been the
passion for gold, a veritable lust that corroded the souls of men.
"But--I don't understand." Her brave, steady eyes looked directly into
those of Macdonald. "If he felt you had--done him a wrong--why did he
come to you when he was ill?"
"He was coming to demand justice of me. On the way he suffered exposure
and caught pneumonia. The word reached us, and Strong and I brought him
to our cabin.
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