oss lots for town; neither of
them, apparently, thinking it anything out of the way to do a full day's
work and then, instead of taking his well-earned rest, to go off and do
another half-day's work in order to "hold the job" for a third man, to
whom neither of them was under any obligation.

Nor _was_ it anything out of the way; for the silver-miners of Colorado,
whatever their faults, did in those days, and probably do still,
exercise towards their fellows a practical charity which might well be
counted to cover a multitude of sins.

"Look here, Phil!" exclaimed my companion, after we had washed and put
away the dishes. "I'll tell you what we'll do. Let's pitch in and put in
Tom's second window for him!"

"Good idea!" I cried. "We'll do it! Let's go out first, though, Joe, and
take a look at old Snyder's house, so that we may see what effect Tom
expects to get."

"Come on, then!"

The row of six little houses, of which Tom's was the third, counting
from the west, had been one of Yetmore's speculations. They were
situated on the southern outskirts of town, and were mostly occupied by
miners working on the Pelican. Each house was an exact counterpart of
every other, they having been built by contract all on one pattern.
Each had a room in front and a room behind; one little brick chimney; a
front door with two steps; and a window on the right-hand side of the
door as you faced the house. All were painted the same color.

Yetmore having secured the land, had laid it out as "Yetmore's Addition"
to the town of Sulphide; had marked out streets and alleys, and had
built the six houses as a starter, hoping thereby to draw people out
there. But as yet his building-lots were a drug in the market: they were
too far out; there being a vacant space of a quarter of a mile or
thereabouts between them and the next nearest houses in town. The
streets themselves were undistinguishable from the rest of the country,
being merely marked out with stakes and having had no work whatever
expended upon them.

The six houses, built about three hundred feet apart, all faced
north--towards the town--and being so far apart and all so precisely
alike, it was absolutely impossible for any one coming from town on a
dark night to tell which house was which. Not even the tenants
themselves, coming across the vacant lots after nightfall, could tell
their own houses from those of their neighbors; and consequently it was
a common event for one of