Beasley's eyes lit, and Buck, watching closely, edged in.
"It's a present to you, missie," Pete went on. "That's wot we come for. Jest to hand you that nugget. Nigh sixty ounces solid gold, an' the first found at this yer camp."
Balanced on his hand he thrust it farther out for the girl to take, but she shrank back. Beasley saw the movement and laughed. He pointed at it and leered up into her face.
"You're sure right," he cried. "Don't you touch it. Jest look at it. Say, can't you fellers see, or are you blind? She ain't blind. She can see. She's seen wot's ther'. It's a death's head. Gold? Gee, I tell you it's a death's head! Look at them eye-sockets," he cried, pointing at the curious moulding of the nugget. "Ther's the nose bones, an' the jaw. Look at them teeth, too, all gold-filled, same as if a dentist had done 'em." He laughed maliciously. "It's a dandy present fer a lady. A keepsake!"
The men were crowding to see the markings which Beasley pointed out. They were quite plain. They were so obvious that something like horror lit the superstitious faces. Beasley, watching, saw that he had made his point, so he hurried on-"Don't you touch it, miss," he cried gleefully, as though he thoroughly enjoyed delivering his warning. "It's rotten luck if you do. That gold is Devil's gold. It's come from Devil's Hill, in a Devil's storm. It's a death's head, an' there's all the trouble in the world in it. There's----"
His prophecy remained uncompleted. He was suddenly caught by a powerful hand, and the next instant he found himself swung to the outskirts of the crowd with terrific force.
In a furious rage he pulled himself together just in time to see Buck, pale with anger, seize the nugget from Pete's outstretched palm.
"You don't need to worry with the trouble in that gold," he said with biting coldness, raising it at arm's length above his head.
Then before any one was aware of his intention he flung it with all his force upon the flagstone at Joan's feet. Quickly he stooped and picked it up again, and again flung it down with all his strength. He repeated the process several times, and finally held it out toward the troubled girl.
"You ken take it now," he said, his whole manner softening. "Guess Beasley's 'death's head' has gone--to its grave. Ther' ain't no sort o' trouble can hurt any, if--you only come down on it hard enough. The trouble ain't in that gold now, only in the back of Beasley's head. An' when it gets loose, wal--I allow there's folks around here won't see it come your way. You can sure take it now."