all you all to witness that you're forcing me against my will."

With the assurance of the crowd that they had caught him with the goods
on him, in the shape of the two fake locations, a committee was formed
and the rough organization of the Tra-Lee Town-Site Company effected.
Scorning the proposal of delivering the shares next day in Dawson, and
scorning it because of the objection that the portion of Dawson that had
not engaged in the stampede would ring in for shares, the committee,
by a fire on the ice at the foot of the slide, issued a receipt to each
stampeder in return for ten dollars in dust duly weighed on two dozen
gold-scales which were obtained from Dawson.

By twilight the work was accomplished and Tra-Lee was deserted, save for
Smoke and Shorty, who ate supper in the cabin and chuckled at the list
of shareholders, four thousand eight hundred and seventy-four strong,
and at the gold-sacks, which they knew contained approximately
forty-eight thousand seven hundred and forty dollars.

"But you ain't swung it yet," Shorty objected.

"He'll be here," Smoke asserted with conviction. "He's a born gambler,
and when Breck whispers the tip to him not even heart disease would stop
him."

Within the hour came a knock at the door, and Wild Water entered,
followed by Bill Saltman. Their eyes swept the cabin eagerly, coming to
rest on the windlass elaborately concealed by blankets.

"But suppose I did want to vote twelve hundred shares," Wild Water was
arguing half an hour later. "With the other five thousand sold to-day
it'd make only sixty-two hundred shares. That'd leave you and Shorty
with sixty-three hundred. You'd still control."

"But what d' you want with all that of a town-site?" Shorty queried.

"You can answer that better 'n me," Wild Water replied. "An' between
you an' me," his gaze drifted over the blanket-draped windlass, "it's a
pretty good-looking town-site."

"But Bill wants some," Smoke said grudgingly, "and we simply won't part
with more than five hundred shares."

"How much you got to invest?" Wild Water asked Saltman.

"Oh, say five thousand. It was all I could scare up."

"Wild Water," Smoke went on, in the same grudging, complaining voice,
"if I didn't know you so well, I wouldn't sell you a single besotted
share. And, anyway, Shorty and I won't part with more than five hundred,
and they'll cost you fifty dollars apiece. That's the last word, and if
you don't like it, good-night. Bill