Groups, en route to the picture show, decided otherwise and stopped to learn of the excitement.

The crowd thickened.

Suddenly Fairchild looked up sharply at the sound of a feminine voice.
"What is the matter ?" "Harry Harkins got drowned." All too willingly the news was dispersed.
Fairchild's eyes were searching now in the half-light from the faint street bulbs.

Then they centered.

It was Anita Richmond, standing at the edge of the crowd, questioning a miner, while beside her was a thin, youthful counterpart of a hard-faced father, Maurice Rodaine.
Just a moment of queries, then the miner's hand pointed to Fairchild as he turned toward her.
"It's his partner." She moved forward then and Fairchild went to meet her.
"I 'm sorry," she said, and extended her hand.