he others. The gentleman known as the living skeleton
had obtruded his huge bulk in front of the boy, and, gazing at him, said
reflectively, "Darned if it don't look like one of Brant's pups--sure!"

"Air ye any relation to Kernel Hamilton Brant of Looeyville?" asked the
first speaker.

Again that old question! Poor Clarence hesitated, despairingly. Was
he to go through the same cross-examination he had undergone with the
Peytons? "Yes," he said doggedly, "I am--but he's dead, and you know
it."

"Dead--of course." "Sartin." "He's dead." "The Kernel's planted," said
the men in chorus.

"Well, yes," reflected the Living Skeleton ostentatiously, as one who
spoke from experience. "Ham Brant's about as bony now as they make 'em."

"You bet! About the dustiest, deadest corpse you kin turn out,"
corroborated Slumgullion Dick, nodding his head gloomily to the others;
"in point o' fack, es a corpse, about the last one I should keer to go
huntin' fur."

"The Kernel's tech 'ud be cold and clammy," concluded the Duke of
Chatham Street, who had not yet spoken, "sure. But what did yer mammy
say about it? Is she gettin' married agin? Did SHE send ye here?"

It seemed to Clarence that the Duke of Chatham Street here received a
kick from his companions; but the boy repeated doggedly--

"I came to Sacramento to find my cousin, Jackson Brant; but he wasn't
there."

"Jackson Brant!" echoed the first speaker, glancing at the others. "Did
your mother say he was your cousin?"

"Yes," said Clarence wearily. "Good-by."

"Hullo, sonny, where are you going?"

"To dig gold," said the boy. "And you know you can't prevent me, if it
isn't on your claim. I know the law." He had heard Mr. Peyton discuss
it at Stockton, and he fancied that the men, who were whispering among
themselves, looked kinder than before, and as if they were no longer
"acting" to him. The first speaker laid his hand on his shoulder, and
said, "All right, come with me, and I'll show you where to dig."

"Who are you?" said Clarence. "You called yourself only 'me.'"

"Well, you can call me Flynn--Tom Flynn."

"And you'll show me where I can dig--myself?"

"I will."

"Do you know," said Clarence timidly, yet with a half-conscious smile,
"that I--I kinder bring luck?"

The man looked down upon him, and said gravely, but, as it struck
Clarence, with a new kind of gravity, "I believe you."

"Yes," said Clarence eagerly, as they walked along together, "I brought