vals in the lulls which occurred in his desultory search
for gold.

Minky, a plain, large man of blunt speech and gruff manners, looked up
swiftly as Scipio entered, and a moment later three more pairs of eyes
were fixed inquiringly upon the newcomer.

"Struck color?" inquired Minky, with his gruffest cordiality.

"No."

Scipio's entire attitude had distinctly undergone a change since Sunny
Oak's lazy eyes first discovered his approach. Where before the
hopelessness of despair had looked out from every line of his mild
face, now his mouth was set obstinately, and a decided thrust to his
usually retiring chin became remarkable. Even his wispy hair had an
aggression in the manner in which it obtruded from under the brim of
his slouch hat. His eyes were nearly defiant, yet there was pleading
in them, too. It was as if he were sure of the rightness of his
purpose, but needed encouragement in its execution.

For the moment the poker game was stopped, a fact which was wholly due
to the interest of the steely eyes of Wild Bill.

"Layin' off?" inquired the gambler, without a moment's softening.

"Guess you're passin' on that mud lay-out of yours," suggested Sandy,
with a laugh.

Scipio shook his head, and his lips tightened.

"No. I want to borrow a good horse from Bill here."

The gambler set down the cards he had been shuffling. The statement
seemed to warrant his action. He sat back in his chair and bit a chew
of tobacco off a black plug. Minky and the others sat round and stared
at the little man with unfeigned interest.

"You're needin' a hoss?" demanded Bill, without attempting to disguise
his surprise. "What for?"

Scipio drew a hand across his brow; a beady sweat had broken out upon
it.

"Oh, nothing to bother folk with," he said, with a painful attempt at
indifference. "I've got to hunt around and find that feller, 'Lord'
James."

A swift glance flashed round the table from eye to eye. Then Sunny
Oak's voice reached them from beyond the window--

"Guess you've a goodish ways to travel."

"Time enough," said Scipio doggedly.

"What you need to find him for?" demanded Wild Bill, and there was a
change in the glitter of his fierce eyes. It was not that they
softened, only now they had the suggestion of an ironical smile,
which, in him, implied curiosity.

Scipio shifted his feet uneasily. His pale eyes wandered to the sunlit
window. One hand was thrust in his jacket pocket, and the fingers of
it f