er, however, for there was only the one stove in the entire big
room, and it was a giant of its kind, as capacious as a hogshead. This
day Pale Annie kept it red hot, so that the warmth might penetrate to
the door on the one hand and to the rear of the room where the tables
and chairs were, on the other.

Since Pale Annie's crowd took little exercise except for bending their
elbows now and again, and since the majority of them had been in the
place fully half the day, by ten in the evening sounds of hilarity began
to rise from the saloon. Solemn-faced men who had remained in their
places for hour after hour, industriously putting away the red-eye, now
showed symptoms of life. Some of them discovered hitherto hidden talents
as singers, and they would rise from their places, remove their hats,
open their bearded mouths, and burst into song. An antiquarian who had
washed gold in '49 and done nothing the rest of his life save grow a
prodigious set of pure white whiskers, sprang from his place and did a
hoe-down that ravished the beholders. Thrice he was compelled to return
to the floor; and in the end his performance was only stopped by an
attack of sciatica. Two strong men carried him back to his chair and
wept over him, and there was another drink all around.

In this scene of universal joy there were two places of shadow. For at
the rear end of the room, almost out of reach of the lantern-light, sat
Haw-Haw Langley and Mac Strann. The more Haw-Haw Langley drank the more
cadaverous grew his face, until in the end it was almost as solemn as
that of Pale Annie himself; as for Mac Strann, he seldom drank at all.

A full hour had just elapsed since either of them spoke, yet Haw-Haw
Langley said, as if in answer to a remark: "He's heard too much about
you, Mac. He ain't no such fool as to come to Elkhead."

"He ain't had time," answered the giant.

"Ain't had time? All these days?"

"Wait till the dog gets well. He'll follow the dog to Elkhead."

"Why, Mac, the trail's been washed out long ago. That wind the other day
would of knocked out any trail less'n a big waggon."

"It won't wash out the trail for _that_ dog," said Mac Strann calmly.

"Well," snarled Haw-Haw, "I got to be gettin' back home pretty soon. I
ain't rollin' in coin the way you are, Mac."

The other returned no answer, but let his eyes rove vacantly over the
room, and since his head was turned the other way, Haw-Haw Langley
allowed a sneer to twist at