Chapter
13
"FOR THE MURDER OF—"FOR A YEAR OGDEN SECOR toiled at his lonely camp beside the big river.
His shovel and his pan and his crude rocker were his only companions. With the little money that had remained to him after his wasted days in Goliath he had purchased material and tools for the construction of a frail shack on his land close to his placer diggings, and had furnished it with such bare necessities as he could afford.
Once a week he walked the ten miles that lay between his camp and Goliath for a few hours with June Lathrop. These were red-letter days for them both—the sole bright spots in their lonely lives peopled by vain regrets.
At first lie had tried to wring from the girl an explanation of her refusal to listen to a suggestion of their marriage; but finding that th
