re gone. All of decay, wreck, and foulness
gathered in the long circuit of mining-camp and settlement, all the
dregs and refuse of a crude and wanton civilization, reappeared for an
instant, and then were hurried away in the darkness and lost. No wonder
that as the wind ruffled the yellow waters the waves seemed to lift
their unclean hands toward the rock whereon the fallen man lay, as if
eager to snatch him from it, too, and hurry him toward the sea.

It was very still. In the clear air a horn blown a mile away was heard
distinctly. The jingling of a spur and a laugh on the highway over
Payne's Ridge sounded clearly across the river. The rattling of harness
and hoofs foretold for many minutes the approach of the Wingdam coach,
that at last, with flashing lights, passed within a few feet of the
rock. Then for an hour all again was quiet. Presently the moon, round
and full, lifted herself above the serried ridge and looked down upon
the river. At first the bared peak of Deadwood Hill gleamed white and
skull-like. Then the shadows of Payne's Ridge cast on the slope slowly
sank away, leaving the unshapely stumps, the dusty fissures, and
clinging outcrop of Deadwood Slope to stand out in black and silver.
Still stealing softly downward, the moonlight touched the bank and the
rock, and then glittered brightly on the river. The rock was bare and
the man was gone, but the river still hurried swiftly to the sea.

"Is there anything for me?" asked Tommy Islington, as, a week after,
the stage drew up at the Mansion House, and Bill slowly entered the
bar-room. Bill did not reply, but, turning to a stranger who had entered
with him, indicated with a jerk of his finger the boy. The stranger
turned with an air half of business, half of curiosity, and looked
critically at Tommy. "Is there anything for me?" repeated Tommy, a
little confused at the silence and scrutiny. Bill walked deliberately
to the bar, and, placing his back against it, faced Tommy with a look of
demure enjoyment.

"Ef," he remarked slowly,--"ef a hundred thousand dollars down and half
a million in perspektive is ennything, Major, THERE IS!"

MRS. SKAGGS'S HUSBANDS.

PART II--EAST.

It was characteristic of Angel's that the disappearance of Johnson, and
the fact that he had left his entire property to Tommy, thrilled the
community but slightly in comparison with the astounding discovery that
he had anything to leave. The finding of a cinnabar lode at An