Page 1 of Laughing Bill Hyde and Other Stories

  LAUGHING BILL HYDE

  And Other Stories

  By REX BEACH

  AUTHOR OF

  "Rainbow's End," "Heart of the Sunset," "The Spoilers," Etc.

  1917

  "LIKE ME?" HE ASKED. PONATAH TURNED AWAY BLINDLY]

  Mr. William Hyde was discharged from Deer Lodge Penitentiary a changedman. That was quite in line with the accepted theory of criminaljurisprudence, the warden's discipline, and the chaplain's prayers.Yes, Mr. Hyde was changed, and the change had bitten deep; hishumorous contempt for the law had turned to abiding hatred; hissunburned cheeks were pallid, his lungs were weak, and he coughedconsiderably. Balanced against these results, to be sure, were thebenefits accruing from three years of corrective discipline at theState's expense; the knack of conversing through stone walls, whichMr. Hyde had mastered, and the plaiting of wonderful horsehairbridles, which he had learned. Otherwise he was the same "LaughingBill" his friends had known, neither more nor less regenerate.

  Since the name of Montana promised to associate itself with unpleasantmemories, Mr. Hyde determined at once to bury his past and begin lifeanew in a climate more suited to weak lungs. To that end he stuck up apeaceful citizen of Butte who was hurrying homeward with an armful ofbundles, and in the warm dusk of a pleasant evening relieved himof eighty-three dollars, a Swiss watch with an elk's-tooth fob, apearl-handled penknife, a key-ring, and a bottle of digestive tablets.

  Three wasted years of industry had not robbed Mr. Hyde of thetechnique of his trade, hence there was nothing amateurish oruproarious about the procedure. He merely back-heeled the pedestrianagainst a bill-board, held him erect and speechless by placing hisleft hand upon his victim's shoulder and pressing his left forearmfirmly across the gentleman's apple, the while with his own dexterousright mit he placed the eighty-three dollars in circulation. Duringthe transaction he laughed constantly. An hour later he was en routefor the sunny South, there being good and sufficient reasons why hepreferred that direction to any other.

  Arizona helped Mr. Hyde's lungs, for the random town which he selectedwas high and dry, but, unfortunately, so was Laughing Bill soon afterhis arrival, and in consequence he was forced to engage promptly ina new business enterprise. This time he raised a pay-roll. It was aneasy task, for the custodian of the pay-roll was a small man with akindly and unsuspicious nature. As a result of this operation Bill wasenabled to maintain himself, for some six weeks, in a luxury to whichof late he had been unaccustomed. At the end of this time the originalbearer of the payroll tottered forth from the hospital and, chancingto overhear Mr. Hyde in altercation with a faro dealer, he was struckby some haunting note in the former's laughter, and lost no time inshuffling his painful way to the sheriff's office.

  Seeing the man go, Laughing Bill realized that his health againdemanded a change of climate, and since it lacked nearly an hour oftrain time he was forced to leave on horseback. Luckily for him hefound a horse convenient. It was a wild horse, with nothing whateverto indicate that it belonged to any one, except the fact that itcarried a silver-mounted saddle and bridle, the reins of which werefastened to a post in front of a saloon.

  Mr. Hyde enjoyed the ride, for it kept him out in the open air. Itgrieved him to part with the horse, a few hours later, but beingprodigal with personal property he presented the animal to a poorMexican woman, leaving her to face any resulting embarrassments. Tenminutes later he swung himself under a west-bound freight, and indue time arrived in California, somewhat dirty and fatigued, but inexcellent humor.

  Laughing Bill's adventures and his aliases during his slow progress upthe coast form no part of this story. It might be said, with a greatdeal of truth, that he was missed, if not mourned, in many towns.Finally, having found the climates of California, Oregon andWashington uniformly unsuited to one of his habits, force ofcircumstance in the shape of numerous hand-bills adorned with anunflattering half-tone of himself, but containing certain undeniablyaccurate data such as diameter of skull, length of nose, angle of ear,and the like, drove him still north and west. Bill was a modest man;he considered these statistics purely personal in character; to seethem blazoned publicly on the walls of post-offices, and in thecorridors of county buildings, outraged his finer feelings, so he wentaway from there, in haste, as usual.

  Having never sailed the sea, he looked forward to such an experiencewith lively anticipation, only to be disappointed in the realization.It was rough off Flattery, and he suffered agonies strange andterrifying. In due time, however, he gained his sea legs and, beingforever curious, even prying, he explored the ship. His explorationswere interesting, for they took him into strange quarters--intothe forecastle, the steerage, even into some of the first-classstate-rooms, the doors of which had been left "on the hook" whiletheir occupants were at meals. No small benefit accrued to Mr. Hydefrom these investigations.

  One day during the dinner-hour, as he was occupied in admiring thecontents of a strange suit-case, a voice accosted him over hisshoulder, and he looked up to discover a face in the cabin window.Bill realized that an explanation was due, for it was evident thatthe speaker had been watching him for some little time; but under thecircumstances, even though the face in the window was round, youthful,good-humored, explanations promised to be embarrassing.

  "How d'y?" said Mr. Hyde.

  "What luck?" inquired the stranger.

  Mr. Hyde sat back upon his heels and grinned engagingly. "Not much,"he confessed. "Can't find it nowhere. This guy must be a missionary."

  The new-comer opened the door and entered. He was a medium-sized,plump young man. "Oh, I say!" he protested. "Is it as bad as that?"Bill nodded vaguely, meanwhile carefully measuring the physicalproportions of the interloper. The latter went on:

  "I saw that you knew your business, and--I was hoping you'd manage tofind something I had missed."

  Mr. Hyde breathed deep with relief; his expression altered. "You beenthrough ahead of me?" he inquired.

  "Oh, several times; daily, in fact." The speaker tossed a bunch ofkeys upon the berth, saying: "Glance through the steamer-trunk whileyou're here and declare me in on anything-you find."

  Mr. Hyde rose to his feet and retreated a step; his look of relief wasreplaced by one of dark suspicion. As always, in moments of extremity,he began to laugh.

  "Who are you?" he demanded.

  "I? Why, I live here. That's my baggage. I've been through it, asI told you, but--" The young man frowned whimsically and lit acigarette. "It doesn't diagnose. I can't find a solitary symptom ofanything worth while. Sit down, won't you?"

  Mr. Hyde's manner changed for a second time. He was embarrassed,apologetic, crestfallen. "_Your_ cabin? Why, then--it's my mistake!"he declared. "I must 'a' got in the wrong flat. Mac sent me up for adeck of cards, but--Say, that's funny, ain't it?"

  He began to see the joke upon himself, and the youth echoed hislaughter.

  "It _is_ funny," the latter agreed. "For Heaven's sake, don't spoilit. Sit down and have a smoke; I'm not going to eat you."

  "See here! You don't mean--? D'you think for a minute--?" Mr.Hyde began with rotund dignity, but the other waved his cigaretteimpatiently, saying:

  "Oh, drop that stuff or I'll page your friend 'Mac' and show you up."

  In assuming his air of outraged innocence Laughing Bill had archedhis hollow chest and inhaled deeply. As a result he began to cough,whereupon his new acquaintance eyed him keenly, saying:

  "That's a bad bark. What ails you?"

  "Con," said Laughing Bill.

  "Pardon me. I wouldn't have smoked if I'd known." The speaker droppedhis cigarette and placed a heel upon it. "What are you doing here?Alaska's no place for weak lungs."

 
Gingerly seating himself upon the narrow settee Mr. Hyde murmured,wonderingly: "Say! You're a regular guy, ain't you?" He began to laughagain, but now there was less of a metallic quality to his merriment."Yes sir, dam' if you ain't." He withdrew from his pocket asilver-mounted hair-brush and comb, and placed them carefully upon thewashstand. "I don't aim to quit winner on a sport like you."

  "Thanks, awfully!" smiled the young man. "I'd have fought you for thatcomb and brush. Girl stuff, you understand? That's she." He pointed toa leather-framed photograph propped against the mirror.

  Laughing Bill leaned forward and studied the picture approvingly."Some queen, all right. Blonde, I reckon."

  "Sure. You like blondes?"

  "Who, me? I ain't strong for no kind of women. You hate her, don'tyou?"

  The young man smiled more widely, his whole face lit up. "I hate herso much that I kissed her good-by and sailed away to make a quickfortune. I hope Alaska's unhealthy."

  "Yeah?"

  "You see, I'm a doctor. I'm a good doctor, too, but it takes a longtime to prove it, out in the States, and I can't wait a long time."

  Mr. Hyde pondered briefly. "I don't see's you got much on me, Doc," hesaid. "I frisk 'em while they're good and healthy, and you 'take' 'emwhen they're feeble. I don't see no difference to speak of."

  "It's an interesting viewpoint," the physician agreed, seriouslyenough, "and I respect every man's opinion. Tell me, how did youacquire that cough?"

  "Livin' in a ground-floor apartment."

  "What's your business?"

  "Harness-maker."

  "Hm-m! You'll do well up here." The doctor was highly entertained. "Iunderstand there's a horse at Nome."

  "_A_ horse!"

  "Alaska isn't a stock country."

  Laughing Bill was genuinely surprised. "No horses!" he murmured. "Howthe hell do you get away?"

  "You don't. You stay and face the music."

  "Now what do you know about that?" There was a brief silence. "Well, Ibet I'll turn my hand to something."

  "No doubt. You impress me as a man of resource." The doctor's eyestwinkled and Bill smiled. A bond of friendly understanding had alreadysprung up between the two men. "Now then, I'm interested in your case.I've a notion to try to cure you."

  "Nothing doin' on the fees. I'm a dead card."

  "Oh, I won't charge you anything! I'm merely interested in obscureailments, and, if I'm not mistaken, you suffer from more thanone--well, disease. I think you need curing about as badly as any manI ever saw."

  Now Laughing Bill was not skilled in subtleties, and his relief atextricating himself from a trying predicament banished any resentmenthe might have felt at the doctor's double meaning. Since the latterwas a good-natured, harmless individual he decided to humor him, andso, after they had visited for an hour or more, Mr. Hyde discreetlywithdrew. But, oddly enough, during the days immediately following,Laughing Bill grew to like the young fellow immensely. This in itselfwas a novel experience, for the ex-convict had been a "loner" allhis-life, and had never really liked any one. Dr. Evan Thomas,however, seemed to fill some long-felt want in Hyde's hungry make-up.He fitted in smoothly, too, and despite the latter's lifelong habit ofsuspicion, despite his many rough edges, he could not manage to holdthe young man at a distance.

  Thomas was of a type strange to the wanderer, he was educated, he hadunfamiliar airs and accomplishments, but he was human and naturalwithal. He was totally ignorant of much that Mr. Hyde deemedfundamental, and yet he was mysteriously superior, while hisindifferent good nature, his mild amusement at the antics of the worldabout him covered a sincere and earnest nature. He knew his business,moreover, and he revolutionized Bill's habits of hygiene in spite ofthe latter's protests.

  But the disease which ravaged Mr. Hyde's constitution had its toes dugin, and when the steamer touched at St. Michaels he suffered a severehemorrhage. For the first time in his life Laughing Bill stood face toface with darkness. He had fevered memories of going over side on astretcher; he was dimly aware of an appalling weakness, which grewhourly, then an agreeable indifference enveloped him, and for a longtime he lived in a land of unrealities, of dreams. The day came whenhe began to wonder dully how and why he found himself in a freezingcabin with Doctor Thomas, in fur cap and arctic overshoes, tendinghim. Bill pondered the phenomenon for a week before he put his queryinto words.

  "I've had a hard fight for you, old man," the doctor explained. "Icouldn't leave you here to die."

  "I guess I must 'a' been pretty sick."

  "Right! There's no hospital here, so I took this cabin--borrowed itfrom the Company. We don't burn much fuel, and expenses aren't high."

  "You been standin' off the landlord?"

  "Yes."

  There was a considerable silence, then Bill said, fervently: "You're aregular guy, like I told you! But you got your pill business to attendto. I'm all right now, so you better blow."

  Thomas smiled dubiously. "You're a long way from all right, andthere's no place to 'blow' to. The last boat sailed two weeks ago."

  "Last boat for where?"

  "For anywhere. We're here for the winter, unless the mail-carrier willtake us to Nome, or up the Yukon, after the trails open."

  "I bet you'll do a good business right here, when folks see what youdone for me," Bill ventured.

  "Just wait till you look at the town--deserted warehouses, some youngand healthy watchmen, and a Siwash village. You're the only possiblepatient in all of St. Michaels."

  Bill lay silent for an hour, staring through the open cabin windowat a gray curtain of falling snowflakes; then he shook his head andmuttered:

  "Well, I be danged!"

  "Anything you want?" Thomas inquired, quickly.

  "I was just thinking about that gal." Bill indicated theleather-framed photograph which was prominently featured above theother bunk. "You ain't gettin' ahead very fast, are you?"

  This time the young medical man smiled with his lips only--his eyeswere grave and troubled. "I've written her all the circumstances, andshe'll understand. She's that sort of a girl." He turned cheerfullyback to his task. "I found that I had a few dollars left, so we won'tstarve."

  Mr. Hyde felt impelled to confess that in his war-bag there was a rollof some seven hundred dollars, title to which had vested in him on thenorthward trip, together with certain miscellaneous objects of virtu,but he resisted the impulse, fearing that an investigation by hisnurse might lead the latter to believe that he, Bill, was not aharness-maker at all, but a jewelry salesman. He determined to springthat roll at a later date, and to present the doctor with a very thin,very choice gold watch out of State-room 27. Bill carried out thisintention when he had sufficiently recovered to get about.

  Later, when his lungs had healed, Bill hired the mail-man to take himand his nurse to Nome. Since he was not yet altogether strong, he rodethe sled most of the way, while the doctor walked. It was a slow andtiresome trip, along the dreary shores of Behring Sea, over timberlesstundras, across inlets where the new ice bent beneath their weight andwhere the mail-carrier cautiously tested the footing with the head ofhis ax. Sometimes they slept in their tent, or again in road-housesand in Indian villages.

  Every hour Laughing Bill grew stronger, and with his strength ofbody grew his strength of affection for the youthful doctor. Billexperienced a dog-like satisfaction in merely being near him; hesuffered pangs when Thomas made new friends; he monopolized himjealously. The knowledge that he had a pal was new and thrilling; itgave Bill constant food for thought and speculation. Thomas was alwaysgentle and considerate, but his little services, his unobtrusivesacrifices never went unnoticed, and they awoke in the bandit anever-increasing wonderment. Also, they awoke a fierce desire to squarethe obligation.

  The two men laid over at one of the old Russian towns, and Thomas, aswas his restless custom, made investigation of the native village.Of course Bill went with him. They had learned by this time to enterIndian houses without knocking, so, therefore, when they finally cameto a cabin
larger and cleaner than the rest they opened the door andstepped inside, quite like experienced travelers.

  A squaw was bent over a tub of washing, another stood beside the tinyfrosted window staring out. Neither woman answered the greeting of thewhite men.

  "Must be the chief's house," Thomas observed.

  "Must be! I s'pose the old bird is out adding up his reindeer.'Sapolio Sue' is prob'ly his head wife." Laughing Bill ran aninterested eye over the orderly interior. "Some shack, but--I miss theusual smell."

  Neither woman paid them the least attention, so they continued to talkwith each other.

  "I wonder what she is washing," Doctor Thomas said, finally.

  The figure at the window turned, exposing the face of a comely youngIndian girl. Her features were good, her skin was light. She eyed theintruders coolly, then in a well-modulated voice, and in excellentEnglish, she said:

  "She is washing a pair of sealskin pants."

  Both men removed their caps in sudden embarrassment. Thomas exclaimed:

  "I beg your pardon! We thought this was just an ordinary native house,or we wouldn't have intruded."

  "You haven't intruded. This is 'Reindeer Mary's' house." The girl hadagain turned her back.

  "Are you Reindeer Mary?"

  "No, I am Ponatah. Mary befriended me; she lets me live with her."

  "Allow me to introduce Mr. Hyde. I am Doctor Thomas. We were veryrude--"

  "Oh, everybody comes here." The men recognized instantly in thespeaker's face, as well as in her voice, that education had set itsstamp. "Will you sit down and wait for her?"

  "You overwhelm us." After an awkward moment the physician queried,"How in the world did you learn to speak such good English?"

  "A missionary took an interest in me when I was a little girl. He sentme to Carlisle."

  Laughing Bill had been an attentive listener, now he ventured to say:"I know this Carlisle. He's a swell football player, or something."

  Ponatah smiled, showing a row of small, white teeth. "Carlisle is anIndian school."

  "What made you come back?" Thomas inquired, curiously.

  Ponatah shrugged her shoulders. "There was an end to the money. Whatcould I do? At first I thought I'd be able to help my people, but--Icouldn't. They will learn from the white people, but not from one oftheir own kind."

  "Your parents--?"

  "They died when I was a baby. Mary took me in." The girl spoke in aflat, emotionless tone.

  "It must be tough to come back to this, now that you know what lifereally is," said Thomas, after a time.

  Ponatah's eyes were dark with tragedy when she turned them to thespeaker. "_God!_" she cried, unexpectedly, then abruptly she facedthe window once more. It was a moment before she went on in fierceresentment:

  "Why didn't they leave me as they found me? Why did they teach metheir ways, and then send me back to this--this dirt and ignorance andsqualor? Sometimes I think I can't stand it. But what can I do? Nobodyunderstands. Mary can't see why I'm different from her and the others.She has grown rich, with her reindeer; she says if this is good enoughfor her it should be good enough for me. As for the white men who comethrough, they can't, or they won't, understand. They're hateful to me.Petersen, the mail-carrier, for instance! I don't know why I'm tellingyou this. You're strangers. You're probably just like Petersen."

  "I know why you're telling us," Thomas said, slowly. "It's becauseI--because we're _not_ like Petersen and the others; it's becauseI--we can help you."

  "Help me?" sneered the girl. "How?"

  "I don't know, yet. But you're out of place here. There's a place foryou somewhere; I'll find it."

  Ponatah shook her head wearily. "Mary says I belong here, with mypeople."

  "No. You belong with white people--people who will treat you well."

  This time the girl smiled bitterly. "They have treated me worse thanmy own people have. I know them, and--I hate them."

  "Ain't you the sore-head, now?" Laughing Bill murmured. "You got ahundred-per-cent. grouch, but if the old medicine-man says he'll putyou in right, you bet your string of beads he'll do it. He's got agift for helpin' down-and-outers. You got class, Kid; you certainlyrhinestone this whole bunch of red men. Why, you belong in Frenchheels and a boodwar cap; that's how I dope you."

  "There must be a chance for a girl like you in Nome," Thomascontinued, thoughtfully. "You'd make a good hand with children.Suppose I try to find you a place as governess?"

  "_Would_ you?" Ponatah's face was suddenly eager. "Children? Oh yes!I'd work my fingers to the bone. I--I'd do _anything_--"

  "Then I'll do what I can."

  For some time longer the three of them talked, and gradually into thenative girl's eyes there came a light, for these men were not like theothers she had met, and she saw the world begin to unfold before her.When at last they left she laid a hand upon the doctor's arm and said,imploringly:

  "You won't forget. You--promise?"

  "I promise," he told her.

  "He don't forget nothing," Bill assured her, "and if he does I'll seethat he don't."

  After they had gone Ponatah stood motionless for a long time, then shewhispered, breathlessly:

  "Children! Little white children! I'll be very good to them."

  "She's a classy quilt," Laughing Bill said, on the way back to theroad-house.

  "She's as pretty as a picture, and little more than a child," thedoctor admitted.

  "You made a hit. She'd do 'most anything for you." The doctormuttered, absent-mindedly. "She's stood off Petersen and thesered-necks, but she'd fall for you." Mr. Hyde was insinuating.

  Thomas halted; he stared at his partner curiously, coldly. "Say! Doyou think that's why I offered to help her?" he inquired.

  "Come clean!" The invalid winked meaningly. "You're a long ways fromhome, and I've knew fellers to do a lot worse. You can grab her, easy.And if you do--"

  Thomas grunted angrily. "I've put up with a lot from you," he said,then he strode on.

  "And if you do," the other resumed, falling into step with him, "I'llbust you right where you're thickest."

  "Eh?"

  "I'll bust you wide open. Oh, me 'n' that gal in the leather frame hada long talk while I was sick in St. Mikes, and she asked me to keepyou in the middle of the trail. Well, I'm the little guy that can doit."

  "Bill!" Evan Thomas's eyes were twinkling. "I believe I'm going tocure you, after all," said he.

  Late that afternoon Mr. Hyde disappeared; he did not show up untilafter dark.

  "I been to see Lo, the poor squaw," he readily confessed. "She ain'tthe pure domestic leaf, she's a blend--part Rooshian, or something.Seems there was a gang of Rooshians or Swedes or Dagoes of some sortused to run this country. She says they horned into some of the bestInjun families, and she's one of the 'overs.'"

  "They were Russians."

  "Rooshians is a kind of white people, ain't they? Well, that's how shecome so light-complected. You remember she said our folks had treatedher bad? It's a fact, Doc. She spilled the story, and it made amouthful. It's like this: when Nome was struck a Swede feller shehad knew staked her a claim, but she couldn't hold it, her bein' asquab--under age, savvy? There's something in the law that preventsInjuns gettin' in on anything good, too; I don't rightly recollectwhat it is, but if it's legal you can bet it's crooked. Anyhow, UncleSam lets up a squawk that she's only eighteen, goin' on nineteen, anda noble redskin to boot, and says his mining claims is reserved forLaps and Yaps and Japs and Wops, and such other furrin' slantheads oflegal age as declare their intention to become American citizens iftheir claims turn out rich enough so's it pays 'em to do so.

  "Well, Ponatah's Swede friend gets himself froze, somehow, so she hasto pass the buck. Naturally, she turns to her pals, the missionaries.There's a he-missionary here--head mug of the whole gang. He's a godlywalloper, and he tears into Satan bare-handed every Sunday. He slamsthe devil around something shameful, and Ponatah thinks he's a squareguy if ever they come square, so she asks h
im to re-locate her claim,on shares, and hold it for the joint account. Old Doctor M.E. Churchagrees to split fifty-fifty, half to her and half to heaven, then hevamps to Nome and chalks his monaker over the Kid's. Now get me: theclaim turns out good, and Ponatah's heavenly pilot makes a Mexicandivvy--he takes the money and gives her his best wishes. He grabseverything, and says he never knew nobody by the name of Ponatah--hegets so he can't even pronounce it. He allows her face is familiar,but he can't place her, and the partnership idea allus was repugnantto him. He never was partners with nobody, understand? He blows theshow; he bows out and leaves the Kid flat. He forsakes the Milky Wayfor the Great White one, and he's out there now, smokin' Coronas andwearin' a red vest under his black coat, with a diamond horseshoein his tie. It looks to me like the James boys could 'a' learnedsomething from this gospel hold-up."

  "Do you believe her story?" Thomas inquired.

  "She don't know enough to lie, and you can't trust a guy that wearshis collar backwards."

  "She should go to court."

  Mr. Hyde shook his head. "I been there, often, but I never picked up abet. Somehow or other courts is usually right next to jails, and yougot to watch out you don't get in the wrong place. You can't winnothing in either one. I thought I'd tell you the story, so if youever meet up with this shave-tail preacher and he wants a headachepill you can slip him some sugar-coated arsenic."

  In the days immediately following Doctor Thomas's arrival at Nomehe was a busy man, but he did not forget Ponatah. He was allowed noopportunity of doing so, for Bill frequently reminded him of her, andas a result it was not long before he found a place for his charge, inthe home of a leading merchant. Arrangements made, Bill went in searchof the mail-carrier.

  Petersen was drinking with two friends at the bar of the Last Chance,and he pressed his late passenger to join them. But alcoholism was notone of Mr. Hyde's weaknesses. The best of Bill's bad habits was muchworse than drink; he had learned from experience that liquor put atraitor's tongue in his head, and in consequence he was a teetotaler.

  "I got a job for you, Pete," he announced. "I got you anothersled-load for your next trip. You know Ponatah?"

  "Ponatah? Sure Aye know 'im." Petersen. spoke with enthusiasm.

  "Well, bring her along when you come. Me 'n' the little Doc willsettle."

  "Dat's good yob for me, all right. Vot mak' you tank she'll come? Ayeask her plenty tams, but she ant like me."

  "You slip her this billy-ducks and she'll come."

  Petersen pocketed the letter which Bill handed him; his eyesbrightened; the flush in his face deepened. "You bet your gum bootsAye bring her. She's svell, ant she, Bill? She's yust some svell likewhite voman."

  "Who's this?" queried one of Petersen's companions.

  "Ponatah. She's jung sqvaw. Aye got eyes on dat chicken long tamnow." The burly mail-man laughed loudly and slapped his friend on theshoulder.

  Mr. Hyde appeared to share in the general good nature. Carelessly,smilingly he picked up Petersen's dog-whip, which lay coiled on thebar; thoughtfully he weighed it. The lash was long, but the handle wasshort and thick, and its butt was loaded with shot; it had much thebalance of a black-jack--a weapon not unknown to Mr. Hyde.

  "Pretty soft for you mail-men." The former speaker grinned.

  "Ja! Pretty soft. Aye bet Aye have good tam dis trip. Yust vait. Youdon't know how purty is Ponatah. She--"

  Petersen's listeners waited. They are waiting yet, for the mail-mannever completed his admiring recital of the Indian girl's charms,owing to the fact that the genial Mr. Hyde without warning tapped hislate friend's round head with the leather butt of the dog-whip. Hadit not been for the Norseman's otter cap it is probable that a newmail-carrier would have taken the St. Michaels run.

  Petersen sat down upon his heels, and rested his forehead against thecool brass foot-rail; the subsequent proceedings interested him notat all. Those proceedings were varied and sudden, for the nearest anddearest of Petersen's friends rushed upon Mr. Hyde with a roar. Him,too, Bill eliminated from consideration with the loaded whip handle.But, this done, Bill found himself hugged in the arms of the otherman, as in the embrace of a bereaved she-grizzly. Now even at his bestthe laughing Mr. Hyde was no hand at rough-and-tumble, it being hisopinion that fisticuffs was a peculiarly indecisive and exhausting wayof settling a dispute. He possessed a vile temper, moreover, and oncearoused half measures failed to satisfy it.

  After Mr. Hyde's admirable beginning those neutrals who had seen thestart of the affray were prepared to witness an ending equally quickand conclusive. They were surprised, therefore, to note that Bill putup a very weak struggle, once he had come to close quarters. He madeonly the feeblest resistance, before permitting himself to be bornebackward to the floor, and then as he lay pinned beneath his opponenthe did not even try to guard the blows that rained upon him; as amatter of fact, he continued to laugh as if the experience were highlydiverting.

  Seeing that the fight was one-sided, the bartender hastened from hisretreat, dragged Petersen's champion to his feet, and flung him backinto the arms of the onlookers, after which he stooped to aid theloser. His hands were actually upon Bill before he understood themeaning of that peculiar laughter, and saw in Mr. Hyde's shakingfingers that which caused him to drop the prostrate victim as if hewere a rattlesnake.

  "God'l'mighty!" exclaimed the rescuer. He retreated hurriedly whencehe had come.

  Bill rose and dusted himself off, then he bent over Petersen, who wasstirring.

  "Just give her that billy-ducks and tell her it's all right. Tell herI say you won't hurt her none." Then, still chuckling, he slipped intothe crowd and out of the Last Chance. As he went he coughed and spat amouthful of blood.

  Once the mail-carrier had been apprised of the amazing incidents whichhad occurred during his temporary inattention, he vowed vengeance ina mighty voice, and his threats found echo in the throats of his twocompanions. But the bartender took them aside and spoke guardedly:

  "You better lay off of that guy, or he'll fatten the graveyard withall three of you. I didn't 'make' him at first, but I got him now, allright."

  "What d'you mean? Who is he?"

  "His name's Hyde, 'Laughing Bill.'"

  "'Laughing Bill' Hyde!" One of Petersen's friends, he who had comelast into the encounter, turned yellow and leaned hard against thebar. A sudden nausea assailed him and he laid tender hands upon hisabdomen. "'Laughing Bill' Hyde! That's why he went down so easy! Why,he killed a feller I knew--ribboned him up from underneath, justthat way--and the jury called it self-defense." A shudder racked thespeaker's frame.

  "Sure! He's a cutter--a reg'lar gent's cutter and fitter. He'd 'a' hadyou all over the floor in another minute; if I hadn't pried you apartthey'd 'a' sewed sawdust up inside of you like you was a doll. He hadthe old bone-handled skinner in his mit; that's why I let go of him.Laughing Bill! Take it from me, boys, you better walk around him likehe was a hole in the ice."

  It may have been the memory of that heavy whip handle, it may havebeen the moral effect of stray biographical bits garnered here andthere around the gambling-table, or it may have been merely a highand natural chivalry, totally unsuspected until now, which promptedPetersen to treat Ponatah with a chill and formal courtesy when hereturned from St. Michaels. At any rate, the girl arrived in Nome withnothing but praise for the mail-man. Pete Petersen, so she said, mighthave his faults, but he knew how to behave like a perfect gentleman.

  Ponatah took up her new duties with enthusiasm, and before a month hadpassed she had endeared herself to her employers, who secretly assuredDoctor Thomas that they had discovered a treasure and would never partwith her. She was gentle, patient, sweet, industrious; the childrenidolized her. The Indian girl had never dreamed of a home like this;she was deliriously happy.

  She took pride in discharging her obligations; she did not forget themen who had made this wonder possible. They had rented a little cabin,and, after the fashion of men, they make slipshod efforts at keepinghouse. Since it
was Ponatah's nature to serve, she found time somehowto keep the place tidy and to see to their comfort.

  Laughing Bill was a hopeless idler; he had been born to leisure andwas wedded to indigence, therefore he saw a good deal of the girl onher visits. He listened to her stories of the children, he admired hernew and stylish clothes, he watched her develop under the influence ofher surroundings. Inasmuch as both of them were waifs, and beholdento the bounty of others, thy had ties in common--a certainmutuality--hence they came to know each other intimately.

  Despite the great change in her environment, Ponatah remained in manyways quite aboriginal. For instance, she was embarrassingly direct andstraightforward; she entirely lacked hypocrisy, and that which puzzledor troubled her she boldly put into words. There came a time when Billdiscovered that Ponatah's eyes, when they looked at him, were morethan friendly, that most of the services she performed were aimed athim.

  Then one day she asked him to marry her.

  There was nothing brazen or forward about the proposal; Ponatah merelygave voice to her feelings in a simple, honest way that robbed her ofno dignity.

  Bill laughed the proposal off. "I wouldn't marry the Queen of Sheby,"said he.

  "Why?"

  "I ain't that kind of a bird, that's why."

  "What kind of a bird are you?" Ponatah eyed him with grave curiosity."All men marry. I'm reading a great many books, and they're all aboutlove and marriage. I love you, and I'm pretty. Is it because I'm anIndian--?"

  "Hell! That wouldn't faze me, Kiddo. You skin the white dames aroundthis village. But you better cut out them books."

  "I'd make you a good wife."

  "Sure! You're aces. But I'd make a bum husband. I ain't got the breathto blow out a candle." Mr. Hyde chuckled; the idea of marriage plainlyamused him. "How you know I ain't got a covey of wives?" he inquired.

  "Oh, I know!" Ponatah was unsmiling. "I'm simple, but I can seethrough people. I can tell the good ones and the bad ones. You're agood man, Billy."

  Now this praise was anything but agreeable to Mr. Hyde, for above allthings he abhorred so-called "good" people. Good people were suckers,and he prided himself upon being a wise guy, with all that was meantthereby.

  "You lay off of me, Kid," he warned, darkly, "and you muffle themwedding bells. You can't win nothing with that line of talk. If Iwas fifty inches around the chest, liked to work, and was fond ofpas'ment'ries I'd prob'ly fall for you, but I ain't. I'm a good man,all right--to leave alone. I'll be a brother to you, but that's mylimit." The subject was embarrassing, so he changed it. "Say! I beenthinking about that claim of yours. Didn't you get no paper from thatmissionary?"

  "No."

  "Then his word's as good as yours."

  "That's what the lawyer told me. I offered to give him half, but hewouldn't touch the case."

  "It was a dirty deal, but you better forget it."

  "I'll try," the girl promised. "But I don't forget easily."

  Laughing Bill's rejection of Ponatah's offer of marriage did not inthe least affect their friendly relations. She continued to visit thecabin, and not infrequently she reverted to the forbidden topic, onlyto meet with discouragement.

  Doctor Thomas had opened an office, of course, but business was lightand expenses heavy. Supplies were low in Nome and prices high; coal,for instance, was a hundred dollars a ton and, as a result, mostof the idle citizens spent their evenings---but precious littleelse--around the saloon stoves. When April came Laughing Billregretfully decided that it was necessary for him to go to work. Theprospect was depressing, and he did not easily reconcile himself toit, for he would have infinitely preferred some less degraded andhumiliating way out of the difficulty. He put up a desperate battleagainst the necessity, and he did not accept the inevitable untilthoroughly convinced that the practice of medicine and burglary couldnot be carried on from the same residence without the risk of seriousembarrassment to his benefactor.

  However, to find employment in a community where there were two men toone job was not easy, but happily--or unhappily--Bill had a smatteringof many trades, and eventually there came an opening as handy-man at amine. It was a lowly position, and Bill had little pride in it, forhe was put to helping the cook, waiting on table, washing dishes,sweeping cabins, making beds, and the like. He had been assured thatthe work was light, and so it was, but it was also continuous. Hecould summon not the slightest interest in it until he discovered thatthis was the very claim which rightfully belonged to Ponatah. Then,indeed, he pricked up his ears.

  The Aurora Borealis, as the mine was now called, had been working allwinter, and gigantic dumps of red pay-dirt stood as monuments to theindustry of its workmen. Rumor had it that the "streak" was rich, andthat Doctor Slayforth, the owner, would be in on the first boat topersonally oversee the clean-ups. The ex-missionary, Bill discovered,had the reputation of being a tight man, and meanly suspicious inmoney matters. He reposed no confidence in his superintendent, asurly, saturnine fellow known as Black Jack Berg, nor in Denny Slevin,his foreman. So much Laughing Bill gathered from camp gossip.

  It soon became evident that Black Jack was a hard driver, for sluicingbegan with the first trickle of snow water--even while the ditcheswere still ice-bound--and it continued with double shifts thereafter.A representative of Doctor Slayforth came out from Nome to watch thefirst clean-up, and Bill, in his capacity as chambermaid, set up a cotfor him in the cabin shared by Black Jack and Denny. While so engagedthe latter discovered him, and gruffly ordered him to remove the cotto the bunk-house.

  "Put him in with the men," growled Slevin. "Serves the dam' spyright."

  "Spy? Is he a gum-shoe?" Mr. Hyde paused, a pillow slip between histeeth.

  "That's what! Me and Jack was honest enough to run things allwinter, but we ain't honest enough to clean up. That's like oldSlayforth--always lookin' to get the worst of it. I'm square, and so'sJack. Makes me sick, this spyin' on honest folks. Everybody knows wewouldn't turn a trick."

  Now it was Laughing Bill's experience that honesty needs no boosting,and that he who most loudly vaunts his rectitude is he who is leastcertain of it.

  "The boss must be a good man, him being a sort of psalm-singer," Billventured, guilelessly.

  Denny snorted: "Oh, sure! He's good, all right. He's 'most toogood--to be true. Billy, my boy, when you've seen as many crooks as Ihave you'll know 'em, no matter how they come dressed."

  As he folded the cot Mr. Hyde opined that worldly experience mustindeed be a fine thing to possess.

  "You go gamble on it!" Slevin agreed. "Now then, just tell thatHawkshaw we don't want no dam' spies in our house. We're square guys,and we can't stomach 'em."

  That evening Black Jack called upon the handy-man to help with theclean-up, and put him to tend the water while he and Denny, under thewatchful eye of the owner's representative, lifted the riffles, workeddown the concentrates, and removed them from the boxes.

  Bill was an experienced placer miner, so it was not many days beforehe was asked to help in the actual cleaning of the sluices. He wasglad of the promotion, for, as he told himself, no man can squeeze alemon without getting juice on his fingers. It will be seen, alas!that Mr. Hyde's moral sense remained blunted in spite of the refininginfluence of his association with Doctor Thomas. But Aurora dustwas fine, and the handy-man's profits were scarcely worth the risksinvolved in taking them.

  One morning while Bill was cleaning up the superintendent's cabinhe noticed a tiny yellow flake of gold upon the floor in front ofSlevin's bed. Careful examination showed him several "colors" of thesame sort, so he swept the boards carefully and took up the dust ina "blower." He breathed upon the pile, blowing the lighter particlesaway. A considerable residue of heavy yellow grains remained. Witha grin Bill folded them in a cigarette paper and placed them in hispocket. But it puzzled him to explain how there came to be gold on thecabin floor. His surprise deepened when, a few days later, he foundanother "prospect" in the same place. His two sweepings had yieldedperhaps a pennyweight of
the precious metal--enough to set him tothinking. It seemed queer that in the neighborhood of Black Jack'sbunk he could find no pay whatever.

  Slevin had left his hip boots in the cabin, and as Laughing Billturned down their tops and set them out in the wind to dry his sharpeye detected several yellow pin-points of color which proved, uponcloser investigation, to be specks of gold clinging to the wet lining.

  "Well, I be danged!" said Mr. Hyde. Carefully, thoughtfully, hereplaced the boots where he had found them. The knowledge that he wason a hot trail electrified him.

  At the next clean-up Laughing Bill took less interest in his part ofthe work and more in Denny Slevin's. When the riffles were washed,and the loose gravel had been worked down into yellow piles of richconcentrates, Slevin, armed with whisk broom, paddle, and scoop,climbed into the sluices. Bill watched him out of a corner of his eye,and it was not long before his vigilance was rewarded. The hold-upman turned away with a feeling of genuine admiration, for he hadseen Slevin, under the very nose of the lookout, "go south" with asubstantial amount of gold.

  The foreman's daring and dexterity amazed Bill and deepened hisrespect. Slevin's work was cunning, and yet so simple as to be almostlaughable. With his hip boots pulled high he had knelt upon one kneein the sluice scooping up the wet piles of gold and black iron sand,while Berg held a gold pan to receive it. During the process BlackJack had turned to address the vigilant owner's representative, and,profiting by the brief diversion, Bill had seen Denny dump a heapingscoop-load of "pay" into the gaping pocket-like top of his capaciousrubber boot.

  "The sons-of-a-gun!" breathed Laughing Bill. "The double-crossingsons-of-a-gun! Why, it begins to look like a big summer for me."

  Bill slept well that night, for now that he knew the game which wasgoing on he felt sure that sooner or later he would take a hand in it.Just how or when the hand would fall he could not tell, but that didnot worry him in the least, inasmuch as he already held the trumps. Itseemed that a kindly fortune had guided him to the Aurora; that fatehad decreed he should avenge the wrongs of Ponatah. The handy-man fellasleep with a smile upon his lips.

  The first ship arrived that very evening, and the next day DoctorSlayforth in person appeared at the Aurora. He was a thin, restlessman with weak and shifting eyes; he said grace at dinner, givingthanks for the scanty rations of hash and brown beans over which hishungry workmen were poised like cormorants. The Aurora had won thename of a bad feeder, but its owner seemed satisfied with his meal.Later Bill overheard him talking with his superintendent.

  "I'm disappointed with the clean-ups," Slayforth confessed. "The payappears to be pinching out."

  "She don't wash like she sampled, that's a fact," said Black Jack.

  "I'm afraid we shall have to practise economies--"

  "Look here! If you aim to cut down the grub, don't try it," counseledBerg. "It's rotten now."

  "Indeed? There appeared to be plenty, and the quality was excellent. Ifear you encourage gluttony, and nothing so interferes with work. Wemust effect a saving somehow; there is too great a variation betweentheoretical and actual values."

  "Huh! You better try feeding hay for a while," sourly grumbled thesuperintendent. "If you ain't getting what you aimed to get it'sbecause it ain't in the cards."

  This conversation interested Bill, for it proved that the robbers hadhelped themselves with a liberal hand, but how they had managed toappropriate enough gold to noticeably affect the showing of thewinter's work intensely mystified him; it led him to believe thatBlack Jack and Denny were out for a homestake.

  That such was indeed the case and that Slevin was not the only thiefBill soon discovered, for after the next clean-up he slipped awaythrough the twilight and took stand among the alders outside the rearwindow of the shack on the hill. From his point of concealment hecould observe all that went on inside.

  It was a familiar scene. By the light of an oil lamp Black Jack wasputting the final touches to the clean-up. Two gold pans, heaped highwith the mingled black sand and gold dust, as it came out of thesluices, were drying on the Yukon stove, and the superintendent wasengaged in separating the precious yellow particles from the worthlessmaterial which gravity had deposited with it. This refining processwas slow, painstaking work, and was effected with the help of a flatbrass scoop--a "blower." By shaking this blower and breathing upon itscontents the lighter grains of iron sand were propelled to the edge,as chaff is separated from wheat, and fell into a box held between thesuperintendent's knees. The residue, left in the heel of the blowerafter each blowing process, was commercial "dust," ready for the bankor the assay office. Doctor Slayforth, with his glasses on the end ofhis nose, presided at the gold scales, while Denny Slevin looked on.As the dust was weighed, a few ounces at a time, it was dumped into amoose-skin sack and entered upon the books.

  Black Jack had the light at his back, he was facing the window,therefore Laughing Bill commanded an unobstructed view of hisadept manipulations. It was not long before the latter saw himsurreptitiously drop a considerable quantity of gold out of the scoopand into the box between his knees, then cover it up with the blacksand. This sleight-of-hand was repeated several times, and whenthe last heap of gold had been weighed Bill estimated that DoctorSlayforth was poorer by at least a hundred ounces--sixteen hundreddollars. There was no question about it now; these were not commonthieves; this was becoming a regular man's game, and the stakes wereassuming a size to give Laughing Bill a tingling sensation along hisspine. Having discovered the _modus operandi_ of the pair, and havingread their cards, so to speak, he next set himself to discover wherethey banked their swag. But this was by no means easy. His utmostvigilance went unrewarded by so much as a single clue.

  Berg and Slevin had a habit of riding into town on Saturday nights,and the next time they left the claim Bill pleaded a jumping toothacheand set out afoot for medical attention.

  It was late when he arrived at Nome, nevertheless a diligent searchof the Front Street saloons failed to locate either man. He was stilllooking for them when they came riding in.

  With their delayed arrival Bill's apprehensions vanished, as likewisedid his imaginary toothache. He had feared that they were in the habitof bringing the gold to Nome, there perhaps to bank it with somefriend; but now he knew that they were too cautious for that, andpreferred instead to cache it somewhere in the hills. This simplifiedmatters immensely, so Bill looked up his little doctor for a sociablevisit.

  Thomas was in his office; he greeted Bill warmly.

  "Say! Pill-rolling must be brisk to keep you on the job tillmidnight," the latter began.

  "Business is rotten!" exclaimed the physician. "And it's a rottenbusiness."

  "Nobody sick? That's tough. Open a can of typhoid germs, and I'll put'em in the well. Anything to stir up a little trade."

  "I've just balanced my books and--I've just heard from Alice."

  "Do the books balance?"

  "Oh, perfectly--nothing equals nothing--it's a perfect equilibrium.Alice wants me to come home and start all over, and I'm tempted to doso."

  "Ain't going to throw up your tail, are you?"

  "I can't get along without her." Thomas was plainly in the depths; heturned away and stared moodily out into the dim-lit street. It wasmidnight, but already the days were shortening, already there was anhour or two of dusk between the evening and the morning light.

  "Of course you can't get along without her," the ex-bandit agreed. "Iseen that when I looked at her picture. Why don't you bring her in?"

  "Bring her in--_here_?" Thomas faced about quickly. "Humph! Not much."

  "Well, this ain't no doll's village, that's a fact. It's full ofwicked men, and the women ain't wuth braggin' over. S'pose we go outand marry her?"

  "We?" Thomas smiled for the first time.

  "Sure. I'll stick to the bitter finish."

  "I'm broke, Bill."

  "Pshaw, now! Don't let that worry you. I got money."

  "You?" The doctor was surprised. "Where did you get it?
"

  "Well, I _got_ it! That's the main thing. It was--left to me."

  "Honestly?"

  "What d'you mean, 'honestly'?"

  "How much?"

  "I dunno, exactly. You see, I ain't got it actually in my mit--"

  "Oh!"

  "But I'll have it, all righto. It's just waiting for me to close downon it. I reckon there must be a thousand gold buzzards in the stack,mebby more. It's all yours."

  "Thanks!" said the physician, unimpressed.

  "Look me in the eye." Bill spoke earnestly. "Twenty thousand iron menain't so bad. It'll buy a lot of doll's clothes. We can have a bigparty--I ain't kidding!" Then reading amused incredulity in hisfriend's face he demanded: "How you know I ain't got a rich uncle thatraised me from a colt and that broke his heart at me runnin' away andturning out wild, and has had lawyers gunnin' for me ever since heknew he was gettin' old and going to croak? How you know that, eh?"

  "I don't know. I don't know anything about you, Bill. That's one ofthe most interesting features of our friendship."

  "Well, pay a little attention to me. Now then, I figger it like this:I got lungs like a grasshopper, and the money won't do me no good, soI'll stake you and Miss Alice to it."

  Doctor Thomas eyed the speaker curiously. "I believe you would," saidhe, after a moment.

  "Would I? Say! You ever seen a feather bed tied up with a rope? Yousit tight and I'll slip you a roll just that size."

  "Of course you know I wouldn't take it?"

  "Why not? It's more'n likely it'll get me into evil company or gimmesome bad habit, and I'll gargle off before I've had a chance to spendit. I ain't strong."

  "I'll earn what I get, Billy."

  "All right. If you feel like that I'll bet it for you on a crap game,and you can take the winnings--"

  "Nothing doing. I want honest money--money that I can look in theface."

  Mr. Hyde was out of patience. "All money's honest, after you get it!"he cried. "It's gettin' it that draws blood. I never knew the silverbird to fly off a dollar and scratch a guy, did you?"

  "I want to make money--that's why I came up to this God-forsakenplace--but--when your uncle's draft arrives you cash it."

  "Ain't you the champeen bone-dome?" muttered Bill. Such an attitudeseemed to him both senseless and quixotic, for he had never attachedthe least sentiment to money. Money was an elemental necessity,therefore he looked upon it with practical, unromantic eyes,and helped himself to it as he helped himself to such elementalnecessities as air or water. Most of life's necessaries had falleninto monopolistic hands and were used to wring tribute fromunfortunate mortals who had arrived too late to share in the graft, aswitness, for instance, Standard Oil. So ran Bill's reasoning when hetook the trouble to reason at all. Men had established arbitrary rulesto govern their forays upon one another's property, to be sure, butunder cover of these artificial laws they stole merrily, and got awaywith it. Eagles did not scruple to steal from one another, horses ateone another's fodder; why human beings should not do likewise hadalways puzzled Mr. Hyde. The basic principle held good in both cases,it seemed to him, and Doctor Thomas's refusal to share in the cominglegacy struck him as silly; it was the result of a warped and unsoundphilosophy. But argue as he would he could not shake his friend'sopinion of the matter.

  One evening, not long after his visit to town, Bill's toothachereturned again to plague him. He raised groans and hoarse profanities,and then, while the crew was still at supper, he abandoned his workand set out in search of relief. But he did not go to Nome. Onceout of sight of the mine he doubled back and came out behind thesuperintendent's cabin. A moment later he was stretched out in thenarrow, dark space beneath Black Jack's bunk. Dust irritated Bill'slungs, therefore he had carefully swept out the place that morning;likewise he had thoughtfully provided himself with a cotton comforteras protection to his bones. He had no intention of permitting himselfto be taken at a disadvantage, and knowing full well the painfulconsequences of discovery he opened his bone-handled pocket-knife andtested its keen edge with his thumb. In the interests of peace andgood-fellowship, however, he hoped he could go through the nightwithout coughing.

  Slevin was the first to return from supper. He went directly to hisbunk, drew a bottle of whisky from beneath his pillow, poured himselfa drink, and replaced the bottle. When Berg entered he went through asimilar procedure, after which a fire was built, the men kicked offtheir boots, lit their pipes, and stretched out upon their beds.

  "I've been thinking it over," the superintendent began, "and you can'tdo it."

  "Why not?" queried Slevin. "I told his nibs I was sick of the grub."

  "Foremen don't quit good jobs on account of the grub. You've got tostick till fall; then we'll both go. We'll strike the old man for araise--"

  "Humph! He'll let us go, quick enough, when we do that. Let's strikehim now. I'm through."

  "Nothing stirring," Berg firmly declared. "We'll play out the string.I'm taking no chances."

  "Hell! Ain't we takin' a chance every day we stay here? I'm gettingso I don't sleep. I got enough to do me; I ain't a hog. I got a bullycorner all picked out, Jack--best corner in Seattle for a gin-mill."

  "It'll wait. Corners don't get up and move. No, I won't hold thebag for you or for anybody," declared the former speaker. "We'll gothrough, arm in arm. Once we're away clean you can do what you like.Me for the Argentine and ten thousand acres of long-horns. You betterforget that corner. Some night you'll get stewed and spill the beans."

  "Who, me?" Slevin laughed in disdain. "Fat chance!" There was a longsilence during which the only sound was the bubbling of a pipe. "Is'pose I'll have to stick, if you say so," Denny agreed finally, "butI'm fed up. I'm getting jumpy. I got a hunch the cache ain't safe; Ifeel like something was goin' to happen."

  Mr. Slevin's premonition, under the circumstances, was almost uncanny;it gave startling proof of his susceptibility to outside influences.

  "You _are_ rickety," Black Jack told him. "Why, there ain't anydanger; nobody goes up there." Laughing Bill held his breath, missingnot a word. "If they did we'd pick 'em up with the glasses. It's opencountry, and we'd get 'em before they got down."

  "I s'pose so. But the nights are getting dark."

  "Nobody's out at night, either, you boob. I ain't losing any slumberover that. And I ain't going to lose any about your quitting ahead ofme. That don't trouble me none." Berg yawned and changed the subject.Half an hour later he rose, languidly undressed and rolled into hisbed. Slevin followed suit shortly after, and the rapidity with whichboth men fell asleep spoke volumes for the elasticity of the humanconscience.

  Now, Laughing Bill had come prepared to spend the night, but histhroat tickled and he had a distressing habit of snoring, therefore hedeemed it the part of caution to depart before he dropped off into theland of dreams. He effected the manoeuver noiselessly.

  Bill lingered at the spring hole on the following morning, and losthimself in an attentive study of the surrounding scenery. It wasfairly impressive scenery, and he had a keen appreciation of nature'sbeauty, but Black Jack's words continued to puzzle him. "Nobody goesup there." Up where? The Aurora lay in a valley, therefore most of thecountry round about was "up"--it was open, too. The ridges were boldand barren, garbed only with shreds and patches of short grass andreindeer moss. "We'd pick 'em up with the glasses--we'd get 'em beforethey got down." Manifestly the cache was in plain sight, if one onlyknew where to look for it, but Mr. Hyde's sharp eyes took in tenthousand likely hiding-places, and he reasoned that it would be worsethan folly to go exploring blindly without more definite data than hepossessed.

  It was clever of the pair to hide the swag where they could oversee itevery hour of the day, and they had chosen a safe location, too, fornobody wasted the effort to explore those domes and hogbacks now thatthey were known to contain no quartz. There was Anvil Mountain, forinstance, a bold schist peak crowned with a huge rock in the likenessof a blacksmith's anvil. It guarded the entrance to the valley, risingfrom
the very heart of the best mining section; it was the mostprominent landmark hereabouts, but not a dozen men had ever climbedit, and nowadays nobody did.

  As Bill pondered the enigma, out from his bed in the willows came DonAntonio de Chiquito, a meek and lowly burro, the only member of theAurora's working force which did not outrank in social importance theman-of-all-work. Don Antonio was the pet of the Aurora Borealis, andits scavenger. He ate everything from garbage to rubber boots--he waseven suspected of possessing a low appetite for German socks. It was,in fact, this very democratic taste in things edible which causedhim to remain the steadiest of Doctor Slayforth's boarders. Wisdom,patience, the sagacity of Solomon, lurked in Don Antonio's eyes, andLaughing Bill consulted him as a friend and an equal.

  "Tony," said he, "you've done a heap of prospecting and you know thebusiness. There's a rich pocket on one of them hills. Which one isit?"

  Don Antonio de Chiquito had ears like sunbonnets; he folded them back,lifted his muzzle toward Anvil rock, and brayed loudly.

  "Mebbe you're right," said the man. He fitted the Chinese yoke to hisskinny shoulders, and took up his burden. The load was heavy, the yokebruised his bones, therefore he was moved to complain: "The idea ofme totin' water for the very guys that stole my uncle's money! It'sawful--the darned crooks!"

  It was a rainy evening when business next took Black Jack Berg andDenny Slevin to town. Having dined amply, if not well, they donnedslickers, saddled a pair of horses, and set out down the creek. Fewpeople were abroad, therefore they felt secure from observation whenthey swung off the trail where it bends around the foot of AnvilMountain and bore directly up through the scattered alders. The grasswas wet, the rain erased the marks of their horses' feet almost in thepassing. Tethering their mounts in the last clump of underbrush theriders labored on afoot up a shallow draw which scarred the steepslope. The murk of twilight obscured them, but even in a good lightthey would have run small risk of discovery, for slow-moving humanfigures would have been lost against the dark background.

  The climb was long and arduous; both men were panting when theybreasted the last rise and looked down into the valley where lay theAurora Borealis. This was a desolate spot, great boulders, fallen fromthe huge rock overhead, lay all about, the earth was weathered bywinter snows and summer rains. Ghostly fingers of mist writhed overthe peak; darkness was not far distant.

  The robbers remained on the crest perhaps twenty minutes, then theycame striding down. They passed within a hundred yards of LaughingBill Hyde, who lay flat in the wet grass midway of their descent.He watched them mount and ride out of sight, then he continued hispainful progress up the hillside.

  Weak lungs are not suited to heavy grades and slippery footing. Billwas sobbing with agony when he conquered the last rise and collapsedupon his face. He feared he was dying, every cough threatened ahemorrhage; but when his breath came more easily and he missed thefamiliar taste of blood in his mouth he rose and tottered aboutthrough the fog. He could discover no tracks; he began to fear thenight would foil him, when at last luck guided his aimless footstepsto a slide of loose rock banked against a seamy ledge. The surface ofthe bank showed a muddy scar, already half obliterated by the rain;brief search among the near-by boulders uncovered the hiding-place ofa pick and shovel.

  For once in his life Mr. Hyde looked upon these tools with favor, andenergetically tackled the business end of a "Number 2." He consideredpick-and-shovel work the lowest form of human endeavor; neverthelesshe engaged in it willingly enough, and he had not dug deeply beforehe uncovered the side of a packing-case, labeled "Choice CaliforniaCanned Fruits." Further rapid explorations showed that the box wasfitted with a loose top, and that the interior was well-nigh filledwith stout canvas and moose skin bags. Bill counted them; he weighedone, then he sat down weakly and his hard, smoke-blue eyes widenedwith amazement.

  "Suffering cats!" he whispered. He voiced other expletives, too, evenmore forcefully indicative of surprise. He was not an imaginative man;it did not occur to him to doubt his sanity or to wonder if he wereawake, nevertheless he opened one of the pokes and incredulouslyexamined its contents. "I'm dam' if it ain't!" he said, finally. "Ishould reckon they _was_ ready to quit. Argentine! Why, Jack'll bustthe bottom out of a boat if he takes this with him. He'll drown a lotof innocent people." Mr. Hyde shook his head and smiled pityingly. "Itain't safe to trust him with it. It ain't safe--the thievin' devil!There's five hundred pounds if there's an ounce!" He began to figurewith his finger on the muddy shovel blade. "A hundred thousand bucks!"he announced, finally. "Them boys is _all right_!"

  Slowly, reluctantly, he replaced the gold sacks, reburied the box, andplaced the tools where he had found them; then he set out for home.

  Don Antonio de Chiquito was contentedly munching an empty oat sack,doubtless impelled thereto by the lingering flavor of its formercontents, when on the following morning Bill accosted him.

  "Tony, I got to hand it to you," the man said, admiringly. "You'resome pocket miner, and you speak up like a gent when you're spoken to.I got some nice egg-shells saved up for you." Then his voice droppedto a confidential tone. "We're in with a passel of crooks, Tony. Evilassociates, I call 'em. They're bound to have a bad influence overus--I feel it a'ready, don't you? Well, s'pose you meet me to-night atthe gap in the hedge and we'll take a walk?"

  Don Antonio appeared in every way agreeable to the proposal, but tomake certain that he would keep his appointment Bill led him downinto the creek bottom and tied him securely, after which he removed apack-saddle and a bundle of hay from the stable. The saddle he hid inthe brush, the hay he spread before his accomplice, with the generousinvitation: "Drink hearty; it's on the house!" In explanation he wenton: "It's this way, Tony; they left the elevator out of that Anvilskyscraper, and I can't climb stairs on one lung, so you got to be mysix-cylinder oat-motor. We got a busy night ahead of us."

  That evening Laughing Bill ascended Anvil Mountain for a second time,but the exertion did not wind him unduly, for he made the ascent atthe end of Don Antonio's tail. He was back in camp for breakfast, anddespite his lack of sleep he performed his menial duties during theday with more than his usual cheerfulness.

  * * * * *

  "Speed up, can't you?" Slevin paused midway of the steepest slope andspoke impatiently to his partner below.

  "I'm coming," Black Jack panted. Being the heavier and clumsier of thetwo, the climb was harder for him. "You're so spry, s'pose you justpack this poke!" He unslung a heavy leather sack from his belt andgave it to Denny.

  "We'd ought to 'a' got an early start," the latter complained. "Thedays are gettin' short and I had a rotten fall going down, last time."

  Relieved of some fifteen pounds of dead, awkward weight--and nothingis more awkward to carry than a sizable gold sack--Berg made betterspeed, arriving at the cache in time to see Slevin spit on his handsand fall to digging.

  "Every time we open her up I get a shiver," Denny confessed, with alaugh. "I'm scared to look."

  "Humph! Think she's going to get up and walk out on us?" Berg seatedhimself, lit his pipe, and puffed in silence for a while. "We ain'tnever been seen," he declared, positively. "She's as safe as the Bankof England as long as you don't get drunk."

  "Me drunk! Ha! Me and the demon rum is divorced forever." Slevin'sshovel struck wood and he swiftly uncovered the box, then removed itstop. He, stood for a full minute staring into its interior, then hecried, hoarsely, "_Jack_!"

  Berg was on his feet in an instant; he strode to the excavation andbent over it. After a time he straightened himself and turned blazingeyes upon his confederate. Denny met his gaze with the glare of a mandemented.

  "Wha'd I tell you?" the latter chattered. "I told you they'd get it.By God! They have!"

  He cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder. Far below the lightsof the valley were beginning to twinkle, in the direction of Nome thecross on the Catholic church gleamed palely against the steel-grayexpanse of Behring Sea.

&
nbsp; Berg was a man of violent temper; he choked and gasped; his face wasbloated with an apoplectic rage. He began to growl curses deep in histhroat. "_Who_ got it?" he demanded. "Who d'you mean by '_they_'?"

  "'Sh-h!" Slevin was panic-stricken; he flung out a nervous, jerkyhand. "Mebbe they're here--now. Look out!"

  "Who d'you mean by '_they_'?" the larger man repeated.

  "I--God! I dunno! But there must 'a' been more'n one. Five hundredpounds! One man couldn't pack it!"

  "You said '_they_'!" Berg persisted in an odd tone.

  Slevin's madly roving gaze flew back and settled upon the discoloredvisage thrust toward him, then his own eyes widened. He recoiled,crying:

  "Look here! You don't think I--?" His words ended in a bark.

  "I ain't said what I think, but I'm thinkin' fast. Nobody knew it butus--"

  "How d'you know?"

  "I know."

  Slowly Slevin settled himself. His muscles ceased jumping, his bullethead drew down between his shoulders. "Well, it wasn't me, so it must'a' been--_you_!"

  "Don't stall!" roared the larger man. "It won't win you anything. Youcan't leave here till you come through."

  "That goes double, Jack. I got my gat, too, and you ain't going to runout on me."

  "You wanted to quit. You weakened."

  "You're a liar!"

  The men stared fixedly at each other, heads forward, bodies tense; asthey glared the fury of betrayal grew to madness.

  "Where'd you put it?" Berg ground the words between his teeth.

  "I'm askin' you that very thing," the foreman answered in a thin,menacing voice. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he widened the distancebetween himself and his accuser. It was not a retreat, he merely drewhimself together defensively, holding himself under control with thelast supreme effort of his will.

  The tension snapped suddenly.

  With a harsh, wordless cry of fury Black Jack tore his six-shooterfrom its resting-place. But Slevin's right hand stirred in unison andit moved like light. Owing to the fact that he carried his gun beneathhis left armpit he was the first to fire, by the fraction of a second.It was impossible to miss at this distance. Berg went to his kneesas if hit by a sledge. But he fired from that position, and his shotcaught Slevin as the latter crow-hopped nimbly. Both men were downnow. Slevin, however, seemed made of rubber; he was up again almostinstantly, and zigzagging toward the shelter of the nearest rocks.Berg emptied his Colt at the running target, then a shout burst fromhis lips as he saw Denny pitch forward out of sight.

  With shaking, clumsy fingers Black Jack reloaded his hot weapon. Withhis left hand pressed deep into his side he rose slowly to his feetand lurched forward.

  "You rat!" he yelled. "Double-cross _me_, will yeh?" He heard thesound of a body moving over loose stones and halted, weaving in histracks and peering into the gloom.

  "Come out!" he ordered. "Come out and own up and I'll let yeh off."

  There was a silence. "I see yeh!" He took unsteady aim at a shadow andfired. "Never mind, I'll get yeh!" After a little while he stumbledonward between the boulders, shouting a challenge to his invisibleopponent. He had gone perhaps fifty feet when the darkness was stabbedby the blaze of Slevin's gun. Three times the weapon spoke, at littlemore than arm's-length, and Black Jack spun on his heels, then rockedforward limply. It was a long time before the sound of his loud, slowbreathing ceased. Not until then did Denny Slevin move. With a rattlein his throat the foreman crept out from hiding and went down themountain-side upon his hands and knees.

  It occasioned considerable speculation at the Aurora Borealis whenneither the superintendent nor the foreman appeared for breakfast.Later, a telephone message to Doctor Slayforth having elicited thestartling intelligence that neither man had been seen in town duringthe night, there came a flicker of excitement. This excitement blazedto white heat when Slayforth rode up on a muddy horse, accompanied bythe town marshal and the chief of police. Followed more telephoningand some cross-examination. But the men were gone. They haddisappeared.

  It was a mystery baffling any attempt at explanation, for there wereno ships in the roadstead, and hence it was impossible for the pairto have taken French leave. While a search party was being organizedthere came word that the missing saddle-horses had been found on theslope of Anvil Mountain, and by the time Slayforth's party had reachedthe ground more news awaited them. Up near the head of the draw someone had discovered the body of Denny Slevin. There was a rush thither,and thence on up the trail Slevin had left, to the scene of thetwilight duel, to Black Jack Berg and the cache in the slide.

  The story told itself down to the last detail; it was the story of athieves' quarrel and a double killing. Doctor Slayforth fell uponhis bag of gold as a mother falls upon her babe; he voiced loud,hysterical condemnation of the deed; he wept tears of mingledindignation and thanksgiving; he gabbled scriptural quotations aboutthe wages of sin. Then, remembering that the wages of his men weregoing on, he sent them back to their work, and determined to dock halftheir morning's pay.

  The story of the tragedy was still the sensation of Nome when, afortnight later, Laughing Bill Hyde showed up in town with thecheerful announcement that he had been fired. Ponatah was at the cabinwhen he arrived, and she did not try to conceal her joy at seeing himagain.

  "I've been so unhappy," she told him. "You've never been out of mythoughts, Billy."

  "Ain't you got nothing better to think about than me?" he asked, witha smile. "Well, the psalm-shouter let me out--jerked the piller-slipfrom under me, you might say--and turned me adrift. He's got ahigh-chested, low-browed Swede in my place. It takes a guy with hairdown to his eyebrows to be a buck chamber-maid."

  "The old rascal!" Ponatah's face darkened with anger. "No wonder thosemen robbed him. I wish they had taken all his gold, and escaped."

  "You're pretty sore on his heavenly nibs, ain't you?" Ponatah clenchedher hands and her eyes blazed. "Well, you got this consolation, theAurora ain't as rich as it was."

  "It would have been rich enough for us."

  "Us?"

  "Yes. You'd marry me if I were rich, wouldn't you?"

  "No, I wouldn't," Bill declared, firmly. "What's the use to kid you?"

  "Why wouldn't you? Are you ashamed of me?"

  Bill protested, "Say, what is this you're giving me, the thirddegree?"

  "If I were as rich as--well, as Reindeer Mary, wouldn't you marry me?"Ponatah gazed at the unworthy object of her affections with a yearningthat was embarrassing, and Laughing Bill was forced to spar for wind.

  "Ain't you the bold Mary Ann--makin' cracks like that?" he chided."I'm ashamed of you, honest. I've passed up plenty of frills in mytime, and we're all better off for it. My appetite for marriage ain'tno keener than it used to be, so you forget it. Little Doc, he's themarrying kind."

  "Oh yes. He tells me a great deal about his Alice. He's very muchdiscouraged. If--if I had the Aurora I wouldn't forget him; I'd givehim half."

  "Would you, now? Well, he's the one stiffneck that wouldn't take it.He's funny that way--seems to think money 'll bite him, or something.I don't know how these pullanthrofists get along, with proud peoplealways spurning their gifts. He's got my nan. You take my tip, Kid,and cling to your coin. Salt it down for winter. That's what I'm doingwith mine."

  "Are you?" Ponatah was not amused, she was gravely interested. "Ithought you were broke, Billy."

  "Where'd you get that at?" he demanded. "I've always got a pinch ofchange, I have. I'm lucky that way. Now then, you run along and don'tnever try to feint me into a clinch. It don't go."

  Laughing Bill enjoyed a good rest in the days that followed. He restedhard for several weeks, and when he rested he lifted his hand toabsolutely nothing. He was an expert idler, and with him indolence wasbut a form of suspended animation. In spite of himself, however, hewas troubled by a problem; he was completely baffled by it, in fact,until, without warning and without conscious effort, the solutionpresented itself. Bill startled his cabin mate one day by theannouncem
ent that he intended to go prospecting.

  "Nonsense!" said Thomas, when the first shock of surprise had passed."This country has been run over, and every inch is staked."

  "I bet I'll horn in somewhere. All I want is one claim where I gotroom to sling myself."

  "If that's all you want I'll give you a claim. It has twenty acres. Isthat room enough?"

  "Plenty. Where is it?"

  "It's on Eclipse Creek, I believe. A patient gave it to me for abill."

  "He won't call for a new deal if I strike it rich?"

  "No. I paid his fare out of the country. But why waste your valuabletime? Your time _is_ valuable, I presume?"

  "Sure! I ain't got much left. You don't believe in hunches, doyou? Well, I do. I've seen 'em come out. Look at Denny Slevin, forinstance! I heard him say he had a hunch something unpleasant wasgoing to happen to him, and it did. We'll go fifty-fifty on thisEclipse Creek."

  The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself. Fresh air won'thurt you."

  The first frosts of autumn had arrived before Laughing Bill returnedto town with the announcement that he had struck a prospect. DoctorThomas was at first incredulous, then amazed; finally, when thetrue significance of those tiny yellow grains came home to him, hisenthusiasm burst all bounds. He was for at once closing his office andjoining actively in his partner's work, but Bill would not hear tosuch a thing.

  "Stick to the pills and powders, Doc," he counseled. "You know thatgame and I know this. It's my strike and I don't want no amachoorsbutting in. I got options on the whole creek--she's eclipsed forfair--'cause I don't like neighbors. You shut your trap till springand sit tight, then we'll roll our packs, stomp on the fire, and callthe dog. Old Home Week for us."

  "But, Billy, we can't work out that claim in one winter," protestedthe physician.

  "How d'you know we can't? Mebbe it's just a pocket."

  "We'll find other pockets. We have the whole creek--"

  "Say, how much d'you need to satisfy you?" Bill inquired, curiously.

  "I--don't know. A hundred thousand dollars, perhaps."

  "A hundred thousand! Whew! You got rich tastes! This ain't nobonanza."

  "But if it's any good at all it will net us that much, probably more."

  Bill considered briefly, then he announced: "All right, bo, I gotyour idea. When I hand you a hundred thousand iron men we quit--noquestions, no regrets; Is that it? But you've hiked the limit on me; Idunno's I'll make good."

  By the time snow flew the tent on Eclipse Creek had been replaced by acouple of warm shacks, provisions had been bought, and a crew hired.Work commenced immediately, and it continued throughout the winterwith Bill in charge. The gravel was lean-looking stuff, but it seemedto satisfy the manager, and whenever Thomas came out from town hereceived encouraging reports from his partner. Hyde ceased playingsolitaire long enough to pan samples in his tub of snow water. Now hadthe younger man been an experienced placer miner he might have notedwith suspicion that whenever Bill panned he chewed tobacco--a newhabit he had acquired--and not infrequently he spat into the tub ofmuddy water. But Thomas was not experienced in the wiles and artificesof mine-salters, and the residue of yellow particles left in the panwas proof positive that the claim was making good. It did strike himas strange, however, that when he selected a pan of dirt and washedit unassisted he found nothing. At such times Bill explainedglibly enough that no pay dump carried steady values, and that aninexperienced sampler was apt to get "skunked" under the best ofcircumstances. Concentrates lay in streaks and pockets, he declared.Then to prove his assertions Bill would help his partner pan, andinasmuch as he wore long finger-nails, underneath which colors of goldcould be easily concealed, it was not surprising that he succeeded infinding a prospect where the doctor had failed. For fear Thomas shouldstill entertain some lingering doubts, Bill occasionally sent him downinto the shaft alone, to sample the pay streak, but in each instancehe took pains to go down beforehand with a shot-gun and some shells ofhis own loading and to shoot a few rounds into the face of the thawedground.

  The winter passed quickly enough, Bill's only concern arising from thefact that his strike had become common knowledge, and that men wereclamoring to buy or to lease a part of the creek. It was a tiny creek,and he had it safely tied up under his options, therefore he was in aposition to refuse every offer. By so doing he gained the reputationof being a cautious, cagey man and difficult to deal with.

  Bill paid off his crew out of the first spring cleanup, from the dusthe had managed to dump into the sluices at night. Thereafter he sentthe gold to town by Doctor Thomas, who came after it regularly. Whenhe closed down the works, in June, he and his partner held bankdeposit slips for a trifle over one hundred thousand dollars. Rumorplaced their profits at much more.

  Bill saw little of Ponatah after his return to Nome, for the girlavoided him, and when he did see her she assumed a peculiar reserve.Her year and a half of intimate association with cultured people hadin reality worked an amazing improvement in her, and people no longerregarded her as an Indian, but referred to her now as "that Russiangoverness," nevertheless she could retreat behind a baffling airof stolidity--almost of sullenness--when she chose, and that wasprecisely the mask she wore for Bill. In reality she was far fromstolid and anything but sullen.

  For his part he made no effort to break down the girl's guard; hecontinued to treat her with his customary free good nature.

  Notwithstanding the liberal margin of profit on his winter'soperations, Bill realized that he was still shy approximately halfof the sum which Doctor Thomas had set as satisfactory, and when thelatter began planning to resume work on a larger scale in the fall Mr.Hyde was stricken with panic. Fearing lest his own lack of enthusiasmin these plans and his indifference to all affairs even remotelyconcerning Eclipse Creek should awaken suspicion, he determined tosell out his own and his partner's interests in accordance with theiroriginal understanding. Without consulting Thomas he called uponDoctor Slayforth.

  The pious mine-owner was glad to see him; his manner was not at allwhat it had been when Bill worked for him. His words of greetingfairly trickled prune juice and honey.

  "Say, Doc, I got a load on my chest! I'm a strayed lamb and you beinga sort of shepherd I turns to you," Bill began.

  "I trust you have not come in vain." The ex-missionary beamedbenignly. "It has been my duty and my privilege to comfort theafflicted. What troubles you, William?"

  "There's a school of sharks in this village, and I don't trust 'em.They're too slick for a feller like me,"

  "It _is_ an ungodly place," the doctor agreed. "I have felt the callto work here, but my duties prevent. Of course I labor in the Lord'svineyard as I pass through, but--I am weak."

  "Me, too, and getting weaker daily." Bill summoned a hollow cough."Listen to that hospital bark,' I gotta blow this place, Doc, orthey'll button me up in a rosewood overcoat. I gotta sell EclipseCreek and beat it." Again he coughed.

  "I am distressed. But why do you come here?"

  "I aim to sell out to you."

  "What is your price, William?"

  "A hundred and fifty thousand, cash."

  Slayforth lifted protesting palms. "My dear man--"

  "That's cheaper'n good advice, and you know it. I took out 'most thatmuch last winter with a scowegian gang of six. Here's the bank's O.K.But I ain't got use for a lot of money, Doc. I wouldn't know how torun a vineyard like you do. All I want is a nice little corner saloonor a cattle ranch."

  "It is a large sum of money you ask. There is always an element ofuncertainty about placer mining." Doctor Slayforth failed to concealthe gleam of avarice in his eyes.

  "Doc, take it from me; there ain't a particle of uncertainty aboutEclipse Creek," Bill earnestly assured his hearer. "If I told youwhat's there you wouldn't believe me. But Thomas, he's got a gal and Igot a cough. They both need attention, and he's the only guy that cangive it. We're willing to hand you Eclipse Creek if you'll take it."

  There was considerable
conversation, and a visit to Eclipse Creek, butthe doctor, it proved, was willing to take any good bargain, and a fewdays later the transfer was made. When the larger part of Slayforth'swinter's clean-up had changed hands the two partners adjourned toThomas's little office.

  "Well!" The physician heaved a deep sigh of relief. "It's all over,and--I feel as if I were dreaming."

  "The _Oregon_ sails to-morrow. It's time to stomp on the fire."

  "I--I wonder if we were wise to sell out at that price," the doctormused, doubtfully.

  "You lay a bet on it, bo. Something tells me that soul-saver will gobust on Eclipse Creek. I got a hunch that way." Mr. Hyde's seamy facewrinkled into a broad grin.

  "Well, I've more faith in your hunches than I used to have. You'vebeen a good friend, Bill, and a square one." The speaker choked, thenwrung his partner's hand. "I've cabled Alice to meet us. I want you toknow her and--I want her to see that I cured you, after all."

  "I'd admire to meet her, but my taste has allus run more tobrunettes," said Mr. Hyde. Then, since he abhorred emotional display,he continued, briskly: "Now call the dog. I'm off to buy our duckets."

  Laughing Bill purchased three tickets instead of two, then he went insearch of Ponatah. It so chanced that he found her alone. Now neitherhe nor any other man had ever called upon her, therefore she wasdumfounded at his coming.

  "Well, Kid," he announced, "me 'n' the Doc have sold Eclipse Creek,and we bow out tomorrow on the big smoke."

  Ponatah opened her lips, but no sound issued. She possessed a strongyoung body, but the strength, the life, seemed suddenly to go out ofit, leaving her old and spiritless.

  "Got a kind word for us?" the man inquired, with a twinkle.

  "I'm glad you struck it rich," she murmured, dully. "You--you'll takecare of yourself, Billy?"

  "Who, me? I don't s'pose so. I don't know how to take care ofnothing." There was a moment of silence. "Like me?" he asked.

  Ponatah turned away blindly, but as she did so Laughing Bill put hishand gently upon her shoulder, saying:

  "Cheer up, Kid. You're going to join the troupe. I've come to getyou."

  There was amazement, incredulity, in the girl's face as she lifted itto his. "What do you--mean?" she quavered. "Are you going to--marryme?"

  "You guessed it!" he laughed. "I been aiming to put up that job on youfor a long time, but I had a lot of deals on my hands. I was a sortof power-of-attorney for a coupla simps, and it kept me busy. Ifyou think the two of us can do with three lungs, why, we'll grab apsalm-shouter and--"

  "Billy! Billy!" Ponatah clung to him fiercely, hungrily. "Oh,Billy--I'll make you well. We'll go to Arizona, Colorado,Montana--where it is high and dry--"

  "I been to them places," he told her, dubiously, "and I 'most stoppedbreathing altogether."

  "New Mexico, then. You won't be ashamed of me there."

  "Say, Kid! I wouldn't be ashamed of a harelip and warts in New Mexico.But you got me wrong; I'm plumb proud of you, and just to prove itI aim to make you carry our bank-roll in your name. That's how shestands at the bank, and that's how she's goin' to stand. From time totime you can gimme a check for what you think I'm wuth. Now then, dowith me as you will; grab your lid; we'll join hands and be solderedup."

  Laughing Bill stared after the girl as she hurried away; musingly hesaid: "The little Doc got in on no pair, for it was all her coin, ofcourse. But she'd 'a' had to split, fifty-fifty, with a lawyer, so itain't a bad deal all around."