ished and festooned up like the Czar of
Turkey, and lavishin' money in bulk. Him and me seen the elephant and
the owl, and we had specimens of this seidlitz powder wine; and
Cherokee he audits all the bills, C.O.D. His pockets looked like a
pool table's after a fifteen-ball run.

"Cherokee must have struck pay ore," remarked California Ed. "Well,
he's white. I'm much obliged to him for his success."

"Seems like Cherokee would ramble down to Yellowhammer and see his
friends," said another, slightly aggrieved. "But that's the way.
Prosperity is the finest cure there is for lost forgetfulness."

"You wait," said Baldy; "I'm comin' to that. Cherokee strikes a three-
foot vein up in the Mariposas that assays a trip to Europe to the ton,
and he closes it out to a syndicate outfit for a hundred thousand
hasty dollars in cash. Then he buys himself a baby sealskin overcoat
and a red sleigh, and what do you think he takes it in his head to do
next?"

"Chuck-a-luck," said Texas, whose ideas of recreation were the
gamester's.

"Come and Kiss Me, Ma Honey," sang Shorty, who carried tintypes in his
pocket and wore a red necktie while working on his claim.

"Bought a saloon?" suggested Thirsty Rogers.

"Cherokee took me to a room," continued Baldy, "and showed me. He's
got that room full of drums and dolls and skates and bags of candy and
jumping-jacks and toy lambs and whistles and such infantile truck. And
what do you think he's goin' to do with them inefficacious knick-
knacks? Don't surmise none--Cherokee told me. He's goin' to lead 'em
up in his red sleigh and--wait a minute, don't order no drinks yet--
he's goin' to drive down here to Yellowhammer and give the kids--the
kids of this here town--the biggest Christmas tree and the biggest
cryin' doll and Little Giant Boys' Tool Chest blowout that was ever
seen west of the Cape Hatteras."

Two minutes of absolute silence ticked away in the wake of Baldy's
words. It was broken by the House, who, happily conceiving the moment
to be ripe for extending hospitality, sent a dozen whisky glasses
spinning down the bar, with the slower travelling bottle bringing up
the rear.

"Didn't you tell him?" asked the miner called Trinidad.

"Well, no," answered Baldy, pensively; "I never exactly seen my way
to.

"You see, Cherokee had this Christmas mess already bought and paid
for; and he was all flattered up with self-esteem over his idea; and
we had in a way flew the flume with tha