ine, advertisements an' all."

"Then do tell me," Frona began. "Has--"

"Now you keep quiet, Miss Frona, till I tell you about it reg'lar.
That noospaper cost me fifty dollars--caught the man comin' in round
the bend above Klondike City, an' bought it on the spot. The dummy
could a-got a hundred fer it, easy, if he'd held on till he made
town--"

"But what does it say? Has--"

"Ez I was sayin', that noospaper cost me fifty dollars. It's the only
one that come in. Everybody's jest dyin' to hear the noos. So I
invited a select number of 'em to come here to yer parlors to-night,
Miss Frona, ez the only likely place, an' they kin read it out loud, by
shifts, ez long ez they want or till they're tired--that is, if you'll
let 'em have the use of the place."

"Why, of course, they are welcome. And you are very kind to--"

He waved her praise away. "Jest ez I kalkilated. Now it so happens,
ez you said, that I was pinched on sugar. So every mother's son and
daughter that gits a squint at that paper to-night got to pony up five
cups of sugar. Savve? Five cups,--big cups, white, or brown, or
cube,--an' I'll take their IOU's, an' send a boy round to their shacks
the day followin' to collect."

Frona's face went blank at the telling, then the laughter came back
into it. "Won't it be jolly? I'll do it if it raises a scandal.
To-night, Dave? Sure to-night?"

"Sure. An' you git a complimentary, you know, fer the loan of yer
parlor."

"But papa must pay his five cups. You must insist upon it, Dave."

Dave's eyes twinkled appreciatively. "I'll git it back on him, you
bet!"

"And I'll make him come," she promised, "at the tail of Dave Harney's
chariot."

"Sugar cart," Dave suggested. "An' to-morrow night I'll take the paper
down to the Opery House. Won't be fresh, then, so they kin git in
cheap; a cup'll be about the right thing, I reckon." He sat up and
cracked his huge knuckles boastfully. "I ain't ben a-burnin' daylight
sence navigation closed; an' if they set up all night they won't be up
early enough in the mornin' to git ahead of Dave Harney--even on a
sugar proposition."

CHAPTER XI

Over in the corner Vance Corliss leaned against the piano, deep in
conversation with Colonel Trethaway. The latter, keen and sharp and
wiry, for all his white hair and sixty-odd years, was as young in
appearance as a man of thirty. A veteran mining engineer, with a
record which put him at the head of h