she meant so to arrange the matter that none should see or suspect and be moved to interfere. Round the shoulder of the mountain, on the road along the edge of the cliff, she was sure of freedom from observation.
Late though the afternoon hour was, the business of hydraulic mining still engaged the undivided attention of every man in the camp. None noticed the girl as she sped up the road toward the cliff—at least, if any one did, it was without remarking the symptoms of the hysteria which was at the bottom of this mad impulse toward self-destruction.
And yet, such is the inconsistency of the human animal, the instinct for self-preservation was stronger than her purpose: when a touring-car swung round the mountain and shot toward her she jumped aside hastily to escape being run down. The next instant the machine was lurching to a halt and the sonorous accents of Seneca Trine were saluting her.
"Judith! You here! Where've you been? Where are Marrophat and Jimmy? Haven't you seen or heard anything of them? They left me at six o'clock this morning, to go after"
"Dead!" the girl interrupted, sententious, eying him strangely.
"Dead?" he echoed. "Who's dead?" A gleam of infernal joy lighted up his countenance. "You don't mean to tell me Alan Law"
