ranger might have mistaken their relative condition. "What
in thunder are you mooning about for? What's up?" Then, catching
sight of Slinn's pale and anxious face, he added abruptly, "Are you
sick?"

Slinn was on the point of telling him his good fortune, but stopped.
The unlucky question confirmed his consciousness of his physical and
mental disturbance, and he dreaded the ready ridicule of his companion.
He would tell him later; Masters need not know WHEN he had made the
strike. Besides, in his present vagueness, he shrank from the brusque,
practical questioning that would be sure to follow the revelation to a
man of Masters' temperament.

"I'm a little giddy here," he answered, putting his hand to his head,
"and I thought I'd knock off until I was better."

Masters examined him with two very critical gray eyes. "Tell ye what,
old man!--if you don't quit this dog-goned foolin' of yours in that
God-forsaken tunnel you'll get loony! Times you get so tangled up in
follerin' that blind lead o' yours you ain't sensible!"

Here was the opportunity to tell him all, and vindicate the justice of
his theories! But he shrank from it again; and now, adding to the
confusion, was a singular sense of dread at the mental labor of
explanation. He only smiled painfully, and began to move away. "Look
you!" said Masters, peremptorily, "ye want about three fingers of
straight whiskey to set you right, and you've got to take it with me.
D--n it, man, it may be the last drink we take together! Don't look so
skeered! I mean--I made up my mind about ten minutes ago to cut the
whole d--d thing, and light out for fresh diggings. I'm sick of
getting only grub wages out o' this bill. So that's what I mean by
saying it's the last drink you and me'll take together. You know my
ways: sayin' and doin' with me's the same thing."

It was true. Slinn had often envied Masters' promptness of decision
and resolution. But he only looked at the grim face of his
interlocutor with a feeble sense of relief. He was GOING. And he,
Slinn, would not have to explain anything!

He murmured something about having to go over to the settlement on
business. He dreaded lest Masters should insist upon going into the
tunnel.

"I suppose you want to mail that letter," said Masters, drily. "The
mail don't go till to-morrow, so you've got time to finish it, and put
it in an envelope."

Following the direction of Masters' eyes, Slinn looked down and s