After that she heard nothing more of the Straying Angels, but only a wildly mysterious confabulation about "rock hogs," and "coyotes" that blew up whole mountains, and a hundred and one things about the "rail end." She learned that it was taking five hundred steers a week to feed the Horde that lay along the Grand Trunk Pacific between Hogan's Camp and the sea, and that there were two thousand souls at Tete Jaune Cache, which until a few months before had slumbered in a century-old quiet broken only by the Indian and his trade.

Then the train stopped in its twisting trail, and the bearded man and his companion left the car.

As they passed her they glanced down.
Again the veil was drawn close.

A shimmering tress of hair had escaped its bondage; that was all they saw.
[Illustration: "Look at MacDonald....

It's not the gold, but MacDonald, that's taking me north, Ladygray....