bout the case, and before they gets done they
votes a strike, and an old feller from this Craw Door gets his time.
Gets kicked to death, the same as they uster in Park City when the
Cousin Jacks from the Ontario cut loose on one another. The Denver
council takes cawgnizance of this, and investigates. It snoops around
till it gets the goods. Then--_wow! bing!_ goes this here Thompson.
They sue him themselves, and now he's up in Canon City, a-lookin'
plaintive like through these things."

He held his knotted, rough fingers open before his face, and jerked
his head sideways, simulating a man peering through penitentiary
bars. Then, with a roar, he started in to bellow, "The union
forever--hooraw, boys hooraw!" in which his companion, forgetting all
the story, joined until it was again time to tilt the wicker-covered
jug.

And so that was the end of Thompson and presumably the strike, Dick
thought, as he settled back into the corner he had claimed. And it was
easy to see, with this damning evidence to be brought forward, that
Bells Park's murderers would pay, to the full, the penalty. For them,
on trial, it meant nothing less than life. He was human enough to be
glad.

The stage rattled into Goldpan, and, stiff and sore from his journey,
he began his tramp toward the trail of the cut-off leading homeward:
He stopped but once. It was in front of the High Light, where a small
scrap of paper still clung to the plate glass. On it was written, in a
hurried, but firm and womanly, handwriting:

This place is closed for good. It is not for sale. It has held
hell. Hereafter it shall hold nothing but cobwebs.

LILY MEREDITH.

The date was that of the tragic night, the night when Bells Park,
fighting for those on whom he had bestowed a queer, distorted
affection, had been kicked to death by the ruffians now cowering in a
distant jail!

Verily the camp and the district had memories for him as he trudged
away from its straggling shanties, and filled his lungs with the
fresh, free air from the wide, rugged stretches beyond. When he came
through the borders of the Rattler he looked eagerly, insistently, for
a glimpse of his heart's desire, and thought, with annoyance, that he
did not so much as know the cabin which she called home. But he was
not rewarded. It was still the same, with no enlivening touch of form
or color, the same spider-web tramways debouching into the top of the
mill, the same sullen roar and rumble of fa