When Lee fell silent the trader and Stark resumed their talk, which was mainly of California, it seemed to the Frenchman, who also noted that it was his friend who subtly shaped the topics.

In time their stories revived his memory of the conversation in the birch grove that morning, and when there occurred a lapse in the talk he said: "Say, John, w'at happen' to dat gal we was talkin' 'bout dis mornin' ?" Gale shook his head and turned again to his companion, but the young man's mind was bent on its quest, and he continued: "Dat was strange tale, for sure." "What was it ?" questioned Runnion.
"John was tell 'bout a feller he knowed w'at marry a good gal jus' to mak' her bad lak' hese'f." "How's that ?" inquired Stark, turning curiously upon the old man; but Gale knocked the ashes from his pipe and replied: "Oh, it's a long story--happened when I was in Washington State." Poleon was about to correct him--it was California, he had said--when Gale arose, remarking sleepily that it was time to turn in if they wished to get any rest before the mosquitoes got bad again, then sauntered away from the fire and spread his blanket.

The rest followed and made down their beds; then, drawing on gloves and hat-nets, and rolling themselves up in their coverings, fell to snoring.

All except the trader, who lay for hours on his back staring up at the stars, as if trying to solve some riddle that baffled him.
They awoke early, and in half an hour had eaten, remade their packs, and were ready to resume their march.

As they were about to start, Gale said: "I reckon we'd better settle right now who has the choice of locations when we get up yonder.