h the same size as that of the big miner.

"Now, then, hold fast, but don't break the bone if you can help it,"
said the tall man, giving his arm another shake.

The laugh with which this was received was changed into a roar of
delight, when the tall man passed his left arm over the heads of those
who held him, and with his left hand conveyed the tumbler to his lips.

There was a good deal of disputation immediately, as to the justice of
paying up bets on what was obviously a "sell," but it was ruled that in
this case they had been fairly lost and won, so that the big miner
turned his back on his bag of gold, and, with a deep curse, left the
store.

Never before had Edwin Jack felt so thoroughly ashamed of himself as
when he went forward and took up the two bags of gold. He did it, how
ever, and, hurriedly quitting the store, returned to his tent.

There was a small portion of the tent curtained off at the farther
extremity, as a chamber for Polly Samson. Jack was relieved, on
arriving, to find that she had retired to it for the night. He was also
glad to observe that all his tired companions were asleep, with the
exception of O'Rook. That worthy was busy clearing up his pots and pans
for the night.

"It's late you are to-night," remarked O'Rook with a yawn.

"Yes, I've been to the store," said Jack; "hand me that candle; thanks."

Turning his back on his comrade, he opened the bag which he had won, and
looked in. The first thing that met his astonished gaze was the
identical nugget which he had contributed the evening before to the sick
miner at Redman's Gap. There was a name inside the bag. Holding it
near the candle, he read--"Buckley!"

"They must have been robbed!" he muttered to himself; then, rising, said
to O'Rook, "I've taken a fancy to go up to the Gap to see the Buckleys.
Don't mistake me for a thief when I return."

"No mistake at all if I did," returned O'Rook, "for you're stealin' a
march on us all just now, an' isn't it robbin' yourself of your night's
rest you are? ah! then, a wilful man must have his way; good luck go
with ye."

Before the sentence and the yawn that followed it were finished, Jack
was on his way to the Gap. He found the elder Buckley seated on a log
by his brother's couch, with his face buried in his hands. A glance
showed him that the sick man was dying. Jacob looked up quickly. His
face was haggard from the combined effects of dissipation, grief, and
watching.