ts for coming to the surface. "There's only one time of day when
it's safe to deal with a gambler, and that's thirteen o'clock."

"I wouldn't sell you nothing, anyway," said Parky, with a swagger. "He
couldn't git grub here now for no money--savvy?"

"I wonder why you call it grub, now that it's come into your greasy
hands!" drawled the miner, as he slowly started to leave the store.
"I'd be afraid you'd deal me a dirty ace of spades instead of a decent
slice of bacon." And, hands in pockets, he sauntered away, vaguely
wondering what he should do.

The blacksmith hung for a moment in the balance of indecision, rapidly
thinking. Then he followed where the gray old Jim had gone, and
presently overtook him in the road.

"Jim," he said, "what about poor little Skeezucks? Say, I'll tell you
what we'll do: I'll wait a little, and then send Field to the store and
have him git whatever you need, and pretend it's all for himself. Then
we'll lug it up the hill and slide it into the cabin slick as a lead
two-bits."

"Can't let you do it," said Jim.

"Why not?" demanded Webber.

Jim hesitated before he drawled his reply.

"If only I had the resolution," said he, "I wouldn't take nothing that
Parky could sell."

"When we git you once talkin' 'if-only,' the bluff is called," replied
the smith, with a grin. "Now what are you needin' at the shack?"

"You rich fellers want to run the whole shebang," objected Jim, by way
of an easy capitulation. "There never yet was a feller born with a
silver spoon in his mouth that didn't want to put it in every other
feller's puddin'. . . . I was goin' to buy a can or two of condensed
milk and a slab of bacon and a sack of flour and a bean or two and a
little 'baccy, and a few things about like that."

"All right," said the blacksmith, tabulating all these items on his
fingers. "And Field kin look around and see if there ain't some extrys
for little Skeezucks."

"If only I had the determination I wouldn't accept a thing from Parky's
stock," drawled the miner, as before. "I'll go to work on the claim
and pay you back right off."

"Kerrect," answered Webber, as gravely as possible, thinking of the
hundred gaudy promises old Jim had made concerning his undeveloped and
so far worthless claim. "I hope you'll strike it good and rich."

"Wal," drawled Jim; "bad luck has to associate with a little good luck
once in a while, to appear sort of half-way respectable. And my
luck--sa