lf, Phil?"

"Scores of 'em. You're one yourself, Jim, when you look at the
stock-boards. Well! The fellow came and went like an angel visitant, and
after awhile I got tired of watching for him, and found myself admiring
the vocabulary of the boys as they got excited. Gad! It's a liberal
education to listen to that sort of a crowd. The worst you can do
yourself sounds like a Sunday-school address by comparison. Suddenly the
door opened and in walked the man with the eyes. He hadn't any overcoat
on and his feet and legs were tied up in gunny sacks. His teeth were
chattering and his face looked like a blue print! He shuffled up to
Rumsey, who was sipping a cocktail behind the bar, and says he:

"'Evenin', pard; I want a drink.'

"'All right, stranger. Just show us the color of your money.'

"'Ain't got any money,' says he, 'but I've got a claim over 'long side
of the Yankee Doodle, and I'm ready to swap a half interest in it for
all the liquor I can drink between now and morning.' There was a kind of
a desperate look about the man that meant business. Rumsey stepped out
among the boys and got a pointer or two on that claim, and they made the
deal."

There was a pause in the narrative, to allow the listeners to take in
the situation, and then the speaker went on: "It was a sight to see that
chap pour the stuff down his throat. He was drinking, off and on, pretty
much all night. Didn't come to till late the next afternoon. Rumsey was
so pleased with the deal next morning, that he let the fellow lie behind
the stove all day and sleep it off. Not sure but that he gave him a
drink of water when he woke up, and water's high at Lame Gulch."

"Kind of a shame, I call it, to let him do it. Wasn't there anybody to
stand treat?" It was Dicky, the lad of the sanguine countenance that
spoke.

"Wonder what the claim was worth?" said the man with a mortgage on him.

"Wonder how he felt next morning?" queried another.

"Felt like an infernal donkey!" Hillerton declared, flinging away a
cigar-stump and taking his legs down from the desk.

Then Peckham turned himself round to face the crowd, and said, in a tone
of quiet conviction:

"The man was all right. If you only want anything bad enough, no price
is too high to pay for it."

This was a sentiment which every one was bound to respect--every one, at
least, excepting Hillerton.

"Sounds very well, Peckham," he said, "but it won't hold water."

The most surprising thing ab