Suddenly　his　eyes　cleared　and　he　saw　the　pile　of　stones。　　His　blood　turned　to　ice；　then　to　fire。　　That　was　the　mark　of　a　prospector's　claim。　　But　it　was　old；　very　old。　　The　ledge　had　never　been　worked。　the　slope　was　wild。　　There　was　not　another　single　indication　that　a　prospector　had　ever　been　there。　　Where；　then；　was　he　who　had　first　staked　this　claim？　　Gale　wondered　with　growing　hope；　with　the　fire　easing；　with　the　cold　passing。
  The　Yaqui　uttered　the　low；　strange；　involuntary　cry　so　rare　with　him；　a　cry　somehow　always　associated　with　death。　Gale　shuddered。
  The　Indian　was　digging　in　the　sand　and　dust　under　the　shelving　wall。　He　threw　out　an　object　that　rang　against　the　stone。　　It　was　a　belt　buckle。　　He　threw　out　old　shrunken；　withered　boots。　　He　came　upon　other　things；　and　then　he　ceased　to　dig。
  The　grave　of　desert　prospectors！　　Gale　had　seen　more　than　one。　Ladd　had　told　him　many　a　story　of　such　gruesome　finds。　　It　was　grim；　hard　fact。
  Then　the　keen…eyed　Yaqui　reached　up　to　a　little　projecting　shelf　of　rock　and　took　from　it　a　small　object。　　He　showed　no　curiosity　and　gave　the　thing　to　Gale。
  How　strangely　Gale　felt　when　he　received　into　his　hands　a　flat　oblong　box！　　Was　it　only　the　influence　of　the　Yaqui；　or　was　there　a　nameless　and　unseen　presence　beside　that　grave？　　Gale　could　not　be　sure。　　But　he　knew　he　had　gone　back　to　the　old　desert　mood。　　He　knew　something　hung　in　the　balance。　　No　accident；　no　luck；　no　debt…paying　Indian　could　account　wholly　for　that　moment。　　Gale　knew　he　held　in　his　hands　more　than　gold。
  The　box　was　a　tin　one；　and　not　all　rusty。　　Gale　pried　open　the　reluctant　lid。　　A　faint　old　musty　odor　penetrated　his　nostrils。　Inside　the　box　lay　a　packet　wrapped　in　what　once　might　have　been　oilskin。　　He　took　it　out　and　removed　this　covering。　　A　folded　paper　remained　in　his　hands。
  It　was　growing　yellow　with　age。　　But　he　descried　a　dim　tracery　of　words。　　A　crabbed　scrawl；　written　in　blood；　hard　to　read！　　He　held　it　more　to　the　light；　and　slowly　he　deciphered　its　content。
  〃We；　Robert　Burton　and　Jonas　Warren；　give　half　of　this　gold　claim　to　the　man　who　finds　it　and　half　to　Nell　Burton；　daughter　and　granddaughter。〃
  Gasping；　with　a　bursting　heart；　ovewhelmed　by　an　unutterable　joy　of　divination；　Gale　fumbled　with　the　paper　until　he　got　it　open。
  It　was　a　certificate　twenty…one　years　old；　and　recorded　the　marriage　of　Robert　Burton　and　Nellie　Warren。
  XX
  Desert　Gold
  A　summer　day　dawned　on　Forlorn　River；　a　beautiful；　still；　hot；　golden　day　with　huge　sail　clouds　of　white　motionless　over　No　Name　Peaks　and　the　purple　of　clear　air　in　the　distance　along　the　desert　horizon。
  Mrs。　Belding　returned　that　day　to　find　her　daughter　happy　and　the　past　buried　forever　in　two　lonely　graves。　　The　haunting　shadow　left　her　eyes。　　Gale　believed　he　would　never　forget　the　sweetness；　the　wonder；　the　passion　of　her　embrace　when　she　called　him　her　boy　and　gave　him　her　blessing。
  The　little　wrinkled　padre　who　married　Gale　and　Nell　performed　the　ceremoney　as　he　told　his　beads；　without　interest　or　penetration；　and　went　his　way；　leaving　happiness　behind。
  〃Shore　I　was　a　sick　man；〃　Ladd　said；　〃an'　darn　near　a　dead　one；　but　I'm　agoin'　to　get　well。　　Mebbe　I'll　be　able　to　ride　again　someday。　Nell；　I　lay　it　to　you。　　An'　I'm　agoin'　to　kiss　you　an'　wish　you　all　the　joy　there　is　in　this　world。　　An'；　Dick；　as　Yaqui　says；　she's　shore　your　Shower　of　Gold。〃
  He　spoke　of　Gale's　finding　lovespoke　of　it　with　the　deep　and　wistful　feeling　of　the　lonely　ranger　who　had　always　yearned　for　love　and　had　never　known　it。　　Belding；　once　more　practical；　and　important　as　never　before　with　mining　projects　and　water　claims　to　manage；　spoke　of　Gale's　great　good　fortune　in　finding　of　goldhe　called　it　desert　gold。
  〃Ah；　yes。　　Desert　Gold！〃　exclaimed　Dick's　father；　softly；　with　eyes　of　pride。　　Perhaps　he　was　glad　Dick　had　found　the　rich　claim；　surely　he　was　happy　that　Dick　had　won　the　girl　he　loved。　But　it　seemed　to　Dick　himself　that　his　father　meant　something　very　different　from　love　and　fortune　in　his　allusion　to　desert　gold。
  That　beautiful　happy　day；　like　life　or　love　itself；　could　not　be　wholly　perfect。
  Yaqui　came　to　Dick　to　say　good…by。　　Dick　was　startled；　grieved；　and　in　his　impulsiveness　forgot　for　a　moment　the　nature　of　the　Indian。　　Yaqui　was　not　to　be　changed。
  Belding　tried　to　overload　him　with　gifts。　　The　Indian　packed　a　bag　of　food；　a　blanket；　a　gun；　a　knife；　a　canteen；　and　no　more。　The　whole　household　went　out　with　him　to　the　corrals　and　fields　from　which　Belding　bade　him　choose　a　horseany　horse；　even　the　loved　Blanco　Diablo。　　Gale's　heart　was　in　his　throat　for　fear　the　Indian　might　choose　Blanco　Sol；　and　Gale　hated　himself　for　a　selfishness　he　could　not　help。　　But　without　a　word　he　would　have　parted　with　the　treasured　Sol。
  Yaqui　whistled　the　horses　upfor　the　last　time。　　Did　he　care　for　them？　　It　would　have　been　hard　to　say。　　He　never　looked　at　the　fierce　and　haughty　Diablo；　nor　at　Blanco　Sol　as　he　raised　his　noble　head　and　rang　his　piercing　blast。　　The　Indian　did　not　choose　one　of　Belding's　whites。　　He　caught　a　lean　and　wiry　broncho；　strapped　a　blanket　on　him；　and　fastened　on　the　pack。
  Then　he　turned　to　these　friends；　the　same　emotionless；　inscrutable　dark　and　silent　Indian　that　he　had　always　been。　　This　parting　was　nothing　to　him。　　He　had　stayed　to　pay　a　debt；　and　now　he　was　going　home。
  He　shook　hands　with　the　men；　swept　a　dark　fleeting　glance　over　Nell；　and　rested　his　strange　eyes　upon　Mercedes's　beautiful　and　agitated　face。　　It　must　have　been　a　moment　of　intense　feeling　for　the　Spanish　girl。　　She　owed　it　to　him　that　she　had　life　and　love　and　happiness。　She　held　out　those　speaking　slender　hands。　　But　Yaqui　did　not　touch　them。　Turning　away；　he　mounted　the　broncho　and　rode　down　the　trail　toward　the　river。
  〃He's　going　home；〃　said　Belding。
  〃Home！〃　whispered　Ladd；　and　Dick　knew　the　ranger　felt　the　resurging　tide　of　memory。　　Homeacross　the　cactus　and　lava；　through　solemn　lonely　days；　the　silent；　lonely　nights；　into　the　vast　and　red…hazed　world　of　desolation。
  〃Thorne；　Mercedes；　Nell；　let's　climb　the　foothill　yonder　and　watch　him　out　of　sight；〃　said　Dick。
  They　climbed　while　the　others　returned　to　the　house。　　When　they　reached　the　summit　of　the　hill　Yaqui　was　riding　up　the　far　bank　of　the　river。
  〃He　will　turn　to　lookto　wave　good…by？〃　asked　Nell。
  〃Dear　he　is　an　Indian；〃　replied　Gale。
  From　that　height　they　watched　him　ride　through　the　mesquites；　up　over　the　river　bank　to　enter　the　cactus。　　His　mount　showed　dark　against　the　green　and　white；　and　for　a　long　time　he　was　plainly　in　sight。　　The　sun　hung　red　in　a　golden　sky。　　The　last　the　watchers　saw　of　Yaqui　was　when　he　rode　across　a　ridge　and　stood　silhouetted　against　the　gold　of　desert　skya　wild；　lonely；　beautiful　picture。　Then　he　was　gone。
  Strangely　it　came　to　Gale　then　that　he　was　glad。　　Yaqui　had　returned　to　his　ownthe　great　spaces；　the　desolation；　the　solitudeto　the　trails　he　had　trodden　when　a　child；　trails　haunted　now　by　ghosts　of　his　people；　and　ever　by　his　gods。　　Gale　realized　that　in　the　Yaqui　he　had　known　the　spirit　of　the　desert；　that　this　spirit　had　claimed　all　which　was　wild　and　primitive　in　him。
  Tears　glistened　in　Mercedes's　magnificent　black　eyes；　and　Thorne　kissed　them　awaykissed　the　fire　back　to　them　and　the　flame　to　her　cheeks。
  That　action　recalled　Gale's　earlier　mood；　the　joy　of　the　present；　and　he　turned　to　Nell's　sweet　face。　　The　desert　was　there；　wonderful；　constructive；　ennobling；
  beautiful；　terrible；　but　it　was　not　for　him　as　it　was　for　the　Indian。　　In　the　light　of　Nell's　tremulous　returning　smile　that　strange；　deep；　clutching　shadow　faded；　lost　its　hold　forever；　and　he　leaned　close　ot　her；　whispering：　〃Lluvia　d'oro〃　〃Shower　of　Gold。〃
  End