Maxwell thought that no sane man would have attempted single-handed to try conclusions with the almost omnipotent league, but he sat still, with a composure that was characteristic of him, asking no questions, though the simple statement had roused his most eager interest. It was some time before Niven proceeded.
"I turned back to camp, and found none of all the boys I left there. Perhaps the headman had sold them. He had, you must remember, a curious cross-shaped scar upon his forehead. I don't know where the rest went, or what I did, being fever-crazy, and it must have been Lyle who brought me to the Frenchman's camp. Of course, Lyle is dead--I buried him with my own hands under the first big cottonwood behind the factory long ago--but he has never forgotten me. There was good alluvial gold in that river; and when I go you will find a record of my journey, with sketches and compass bearings, under my pillow. I'll bequeath it to you, with my curse upon the men who killed poor Lyle, on this condition: If you meet the Leopards--and whoever goes up there will--you will remember my quarrel with them, and how my partner died."
"After what I have heard about their doings, I can promise that," said Maxwell quietly.
"I think we both can trust you. You look that kind of man," said Niven. "I should never have told you if you hadn't. The two things go together, for the Leopard headmen will know I have passed the quarrel on. You can't take one without the other."
Niven sank into sleep or unconsciousness presently, and Maxwell sat beside him considering what he had heard. He could see that there was a burden attached to the legacy; but he had no profession, and was not a rich man. It was true that he would shortly succeed to Culmeny, and had inherited the family pride in the ancient estate; but, when the interest had been paid, the rental of the poor, encumbered lands would provide the barest living. He determined that if there was gold in the Leopards' country he would stake his life on the chance of finding it. After coming to this decision he called a Krooboy to watch the sick man, and retired to snatch a few hours' badly needed sleep. Sleep, however, was some time in coming. The mildewed building was insufferably hot, and the thunder of the surf sufficient to keep awake any man who had lately emerged from the hush of the twilight forest; but at last Maxwell sank into fitful slumber. It afterward was evident that the Krooboy, too, had slumbered.
