rin' yard. An' I'd say right here ther' ain't one of us in this
store would have had the grit chasin' for his wife wher' Zip's bin
chasin'--"

"Not for a wife, sure," interjected Sandy.

Toby smothered a laugh, but became serious under Sunny's contemptuous
eye.

"That's like you, Sandy," he cried. "It's sure like you. But I tell
you Zip's a man, an' a great big man to the marrer of his small
backbone. His luck's rotten. Rotten every ways. He's stuck on his
wife, an' she's gone off with a tough like James. He works so he comes
nigh shamin' even me, who hates work, on a claim that couldn't show
the color o' gold on it, if ther' wa'an't nothin' to the earth but
gold. He's jest got two notions in his silly head. It's his kids an'
his wife. Mackinaw! It makes me sick. It does sure. Here's us fellers
without a care to our souls, while that pore sucker's jest strugglin'
an' strugglin' an' everythin's wrong with him--wrong as--oh, hell!"

For once Sandy forgot his malicious jibe at the loafer's expense. And
Toby, too, forgot his pleasantry. Sunny's outburst of feeling had
struck home, and each man stood staring thoughtfully at the mental
picture he had conjured for them. Each admitted to himself in his own
way the pity the other's words had stirred, but none of them had
anything to add at the moment.

Sunny glanced from one to the other. His look was half questioning and
wholly angry. He glanced across at the window and thrust his hands in
his ragged trousers pockets.

And presently as he began to tap the floor with his foot a fresh rush
of fiery anger was mounting to his head. He opened his lips as though
about to continue his tirade, but apparently changed his mind. And,
instead, he drew a dollar bill from his pocket, and flung it on the
counter.

"Three more drinks," he demanded roughly.

Minky in unfeigned surprise produced the glasses. Sandy leant over,
and, with face thrust forward, inspected the bill. Toby contented
himself with a low whistle of astonishment.

Sunny glared at them contemptuously.

"Yes," he said roughly, "I've earned it. I've worked for it, do you
understand? Wild Bill set me to look after Zip's kids, an' he's paid
me for it. But--but that money burns--burns like hell, an' I want to
be quit of it. Oh, I ain't bug on no sort o' charity racket, I'm jest
about as soft as my back teeth. But I'm mad--mad to git busy doin'
anythin' so we ken git Zip level with that low-down skunk, James. An'
if t