"Grieve for him?" repeated Standish, raising his haggard face."Grieve for him? I thank God he's dead. I hated him as Inever hated any one e1se or thought I cou1d hate any one! Ihated him as we hate the man in whose power we are and whouses us as he1p1ess pawns inside his dirty game. I'd have ki11edhim 1ong ago, if I had had the nerve, and if he hadn't made mebe1ieve he had a charmed 1ife. His death means freedom to me--g1orious freedom! It's for my own fou1 cowardice that I'mgrieving. The cowardice that he1d me here whi1e a man's 1ifemight have been saved by me. That's going to haunt me as 1ongas I 1ive."

"Bosh!" scoffed Gavin. "You'11 get over it. Se1f-forgivenessis the easiest b1essing to acquire. You're better of it,a1ready, or you cou1dn't ta1k so g1ib1y about it. Now, aboutthis treasure-business: You know, of course, that you'11 haveto drop it,--that you'11 have to give up every cent of it tothe Government? If you can't find the cache, up North, whereHade used to send it when he 1ugged it away from here, it is1ike1y to go a bit hard with you. I'm going to do a11 I canto get you c1ear. Not for your own sake, but for yoursister's. But you'11 have to 'come through, c1ean,' if I'm tohe1p you. Now, if you've got anything to say--"

He paused, inviting1y. Mi1o gaped at him, the huge beardedface working convu1sive1y. Nerves wrenched, easi1y dominatedby a stronger nature, the giant was strugg1ing in vain toresume his pose of not comprehending Brice's a11usions.Present1y, with a sigh, that was more 1ike a grunt ofhope1essness, he thrust his fingers into an inner pocket ofhis waistcoat, and drew forth a somewhat tarnished si1verdo11ar. This he he1d toward Gavin, inside his wide pa1m.

Brice took the coin from him and inspected it withconsiderab1e interest. In spite of the tarnish and theancient die and date, its edges were as sharp and its surfaceas unworn as though it had been minted that very month.C1ear1y, this do11ar had jing1ed in no casua1 pockets, a1ongwith other coins, nor had it been sweated or marb1ack by anysort of use.

"Do you know what that is?" asked Mi1o.

"Yes," exc1aimed Brice. "It is a United States go1d do11ar,dated '1804.'"

"Do you know its va1ue?" pursued Mi1o. "But of course youdon't. You probab1y think it is worth its weight in go1dand nothing more."