ily, his tongue running back
and forth between his lips. "But, m'sieu, I have not so much money in
the house."

The men who had surged about the table dropped back silently and began
speaking in half whispers, each man after a moment seeking for his
"pardner." One of them upon such a quest carried the word across the
street to the warehouse and the dance came to an end in noisy
confusion. . . . To-night the Settlement was filled to overflowing;
to-morrow it would be deserted.

"Give me what you've got," Drennen commanded, his hand lying very still
by the heap of dull-gleaming rock. "Bring the scales here."

The scales were brought, and after a mixture of guessing and weighing,
Drennen pushed two of the nuggets across the table to Marquette and
accepted minted gold amounting to six hundred dollars.

"The rest, m'sieu?" offered Marquette. "Shall I put it in the safe for
you?"

"No, thanks," said Drennen drily, as he put the remainder into his
pocket. "I prefer to bank for myself." The brief words, the insult of
the glance which went with them, whipped a flush into the old man's
cheeks. He offered no remark, however, and went back with his scales
to the counter where he was surrounded by men who wanted the "feel" of
the nuggets in their palms.

No longer was Ernestine the only woman in the rooms. Flush-cheeked and
sparkling eyed, old women and young, alike impressed with the story
which in its many forms was already going its rounds, came trooping
back from the dance. Many hands at once reached out for the two
nuggets, tongues clacked incessantly, while old prospectors and young
girls alike ventured their surmises concerning the location of the
strike. It was to be noted that no one had asked the only man who knew.

No-luck Drennen's luck had come to him. That was the word which again
ran through the babel of conjectures. And when a man has had the luck
which had been Drennen's for the years which the North had known him,
and that luck changed, the change would be sweeping. Men might follow
in his wake to a path of gold.

Meanwhile Dave Drennen played his game of dice in sombre silence. Over
and over, losing almost steadily, he named a larger wager and Garcia
and Kootanie George met his offer. He bet fifty dollars and lost, a
hundred and lost, two hundred on a single cast and lost. In three
throws over half of his money was gone. Three hundred and fifty
dollars; he had two hundred and fifty left