"Very well, most mysterious lady, tell your wonderful secret."
"You needn't laugh," she retorted, with a first glimpse of

reviving spirit. "I can take the laugh out of you in one second."
"It's a go."

She ran through the spruces to the cave, and returned carrying
something which was manifestly heavy. Upon nearer view he saw

that whatever she held with such evident importance had been
bound up in a black scarf he well remembered. That alone was

sufficient to make him tingle with curiosity.
"Have you any idea what I did in your absence?" she asked.

"I imagine you lounged about, waiting and watching for me," he
replied, smiling. "I've my share of conceit, you know."

"You're wrong. I worked. Look at my hands." She dropped on her
knees close to where he sat, and, carefully depositing the black

bundle, she held out her hands. The palms and inside of her
fingers were white, puckered, and worn.

"Why, Bess, you've been fooling in the water," he said.
"Fooling? Look here!" With deft fingers she spread open the black

scarf, and the bright sun shone upon a dull, glittering heap of
gold.

"Gold!" he ejaculated.
"Yes, gold! See, pounds of gold! I found it--washed it out of the

stream--picked it out grain by grain, nugget by nugget!"
"Gold!" he cried.

"Yes. Now--now laugh at my secret!"
For a long minute Venters gazed. Then he stretched forth a hand

to feel if the gold was real.
"Gold!" he almost shouted. "Bess, there are hundreds--thousands

of dollars' worth here!"
He leaned over to her, and put his hand, strong and clenching

now, on hers.
"Is there more where this came from?" he whispered.

"Plenty of it, all the way up the stream to the cliff. You know
I've often washed for gold. Then I've heard the men talk. I think

there's no great quantity of gold here, but enough for--for a
fortune for you."

"That--was--your--secret! "
"Yes. I hate gold. For it makes men mad. I've seen them drunk

with joy and dance and fling themselves around. I've seen them
curse and rave. I've seen them fight like dogs and roll in the

dust. I've seen them kill each other for gold."
"Is that why you hated to tell me?"

"Not--not altogether." Bess lowered her head. "It was because I
knew you'd never stay here long after you found gold."

"You were afraid I'd leave you?"
"Yes.

"Listen!...You great, simple child! Listen...You sweet,
wonderful, wild, blue-eyed girl! I was tortured by my secret. It

was that I knew we--we must leave the valley. We can't stay here
much longer. I couldn't think how we'd get away--out of the

country--or how we'd live, if we ever got out. I'm a beggar.
That's why I kept my secret. I'm poor. It takes money to make way

beyond Sterling. We couldn't ride horses or burros or walk
forever. So while I knew we must go, I was distracted over how to

go and what to do. Now! We've gold! Once beyond Sterling, well be
safe from rustlers. We've no others to fear.

"Oh! Listen! Bess!" Venters now heard his voice ringing high and
sweet, and he felt Bess's cold hands in his crushing grasp as she

leaned toward him pale, breathless. "This is how much I'd leave
you! You made me live again! I'll take you away--far away from

this wild country. You'll begin a new life. You'll be happy. You
shall see cities, ships, people. You shall have anything your

heart craves. All the shame and sorrow of your life shall be
forgotten--as if they had never been. This is how much I'd leave

you here alone--you sad-eyed girl. I love you! Didn't you know
it? How could you fail to know it? I love you! I'm free! I'm a

man a man you've made--no more a beggar!...Kiss me! This is how
much I'd leave you here alone--you beautiful, strange, unhappy

girl. But I'll make you happy. What--what do I care for--your
past! I love you! I'll take you home to Illinois--to my mother.

Then I'll take you to far places. I'll make up all you've lost.
Oh, I know you love me--knew it before you told me. And it

changed my life. And you'll go with me, not as my companion as
you are here, nor my sister, but, Bess, darling!...As my wife!"

CHAPTER XVII. WRANGLE'S RACE RUN
The plan eventuallydecided upon by the lovers was for Venters to

go to the village, secure a horse and some kind of a disguise for
Bess, or at least less strikingapparel than her present garb,

and to return post-haste to the valley. Meanwhile, she would add
to their store of gold. Then they would strike the long and

perilous trail to ride out of Utah. In the event of his inability
to fetch back a horse for her, they intended to make the giant

sorrel carry double. The gold, a little food, saddle blankets,
and Venters's guns were to compose the light outfit with which

they would make the start.
"I love this beautiful place," said Bess. "It's hard to think of

leaving it."
"Hard! Well, I should think so," replied Venters. "Maybe--in

years--" But he did not complete in words his thought that might
be possible to return after many years of absence and change.

Once again Bess bade Venters farewell under the shadow of
Balancing Rock, and this time it was with whispered hope and

tenderness and passionate trust. Long after he had left her, all
down through the outlet to the Pass, the clinging clasp of her

arms, the sweetness of her lips, and the sense of a new and
exquisite birth of character in her remained hauntingly and

thrillingly in his mind. The girl who had sadly called herself
nameless and nothing had been marvelously transformed in the

moment of his avowal of love. It was something to think over,
something to warm his heart, but for the present it had

absolutely to be forgotten so that all his mind could be
addressed to the trip so fraught with danger.

He carried only his rifle, revolver, and a small quantity of
bread and meat, and thus lightly burdened, he made swift progress

down the slope and out into the valley. Darkness was coming on,
and he welcomed it. Stars were blinking when he reached his old

hiding-place in the split of canyon wall, and by their aid he
slipped through the dense thickets to the grassy enclosure.

Wrangle stood in the center of it with his head up, and he
appeared black and of gigantic proportions in the dim light.

Venters whistled softly, began a slow approach, and then called.
The horse snorted and, plunging away with dull, heavy sound of

hoofs, he disappeared in the gloom. "Wilder than ever!" muttered
Venters. He followed the sorrel into the narrowing split between

the walls, and presently had to desist because he could not see a
foot in advance. As he went back toward the open Wrangle jumped

out of an ebony shadow of cliff and like a thunderbolt shot huge
and black past him down into the starlit glade. Deciding that all

attempts to catch Wrangle at night would be useless, Venters
repaired to the shelving rock where he had hiddensaddle and

blanket, and there went to sleep.
The first peep of day found him stirring, and as soon as it was

light enough to distinguish objects, he took his lasso off his
saddle and went out to rope the sorrel. He espied Wrangle at the

lower end of the cove and approached him in a perfectly natural
manner. When he got near enough, Wrangle evidently recognized

him, but was too wild to stand. He ran up the glade and on into
the narrow lane between the walls. This favored Venters's speedy