an unsociable hoosier.

"But I'd most sw'ar to him--most." Stamps went through the streets
muttering, "I'd most _swar_!"

It was but a few days later that Latimer saw him standing on a street
corner staring at him as he himself approached. It was his curious
intentness which attracted Latimer. He did not recognise his face. He had
not seen him more than once in the days so long gone by, and had then
cast a mere abstracted glance at him. He did not know him again--though
his garments vaguely recalled months when he had only seen men clothed in
jeans of blue, or copperas brown. He saw him again the next day, and
again the next, and after that he seemed to chance upon him so often that
he could not help observing and reflecting upon the eager scrutiny in his
wrinkled countenance.

"Do you see that man?" he remarked to Baird. "I come upon him everywhere.
Do you know him?"

"No. I thought it possible you did--or that he recognised one of us--or
wanted to ask some question."

After his conversation with big Tom De Willoughby, Latimer heard from
Baird the story of the herds and their indefatigable claimant.

"He comes from the Cross-roads?" said Latimer. "I don't remember his
face."

"Do you think," said Baird, rather slowly, "that he thinks he remembers
yours?"

A week passed before Latimer encountered him again. On this occasion he
was alone. Baird had gone South to Delisleville in the interests of the
claim. He had unexpectedly heard rumours of some valuable evidence which
might be gathered in a special quarter at this particular moment, and had
set out upon the journey at a few hours' notice.

Stamps had passed two days and nights in torment. He had learned from Mr.
Linthicum that his claim had reached one of the critical points all
claims must pass. More money was needed to grease the wheels that they
might carry it past the crisis safely. Stamps had been starving himself
for days and had gone without fire for weeks, but the wheels had refused
to budge for the sum he managed to produce. He was weak, and so feverish
with anxiety and hunger that his lips were cracked and his tongue dry to
rasping.

"It's all I kin scrape, Linthicum," he said to that gentleman. "I kin get
a few dollars more if Minty kin sell her crop o' corn an' send me the
money--but this is every cent I kin give ye now. Won't it do _nothin_'?"

"No, it won't," answered the claim agent, with a final sort of shrug.
"We're dealing with a busine