ing to the
oil-well district in California to test himself out with his idea,
then he was coming back to Canada to start up oil-wells all over the
bally country."

"He's going to let me in on it too. That's what I call one of my
_futures_. Just a speculation, old chap! I gave him two hundred and
fifty dollars on his note. He required it to pay his way to the Oil
Wells. Don't you think it might be a real good thing, Phil?"

"It might!--but I don't think I would tell many people about it," said
Phil quietly.

"Why?--Oh, yes, I see! I oughtn't to give the chap away before he
elaborates his plans. Might spoil them. Silly I didn't think of
that!"

"Just so, Mr. Hannington!"

"Meantime, though,--I intend buying a house here and settling down. I
do like this Valley. It is so deuced picturesque, you know, and rural.
When I'm properly established, I can go in for mining. On a hilly
country like this, there ought to be good mining properties; gold,
silver, etcetera. Don't you think so, Phil?"

"There might be, if one could only hit them. I've never had enough
time or money myself to take the matter up as a hobby."

DeRue Hannington rose slowly from the table.

"Well, Phil, old top!--I've enjoyed our talk. I hope to see you again
soon. Come and have a cocktail before I go!"

Phil got up, and they went into the bar together, where a number of
Vernock's seasoned bar-loungers were following their usual bent.

DeRue Hannington kept harping on his various money-making schemes, in
his high drawling voice, which could be heard all over the saloon.
Suddenly his eye fell on one with whom he seemed to be casually
acquainted; a foppishly dressed, smooth-tongued rascal who dealt in
horses, cards, bunco real-estate, insurance and anything else that
brought a commission without much work. He was called Rattlesnake Jim
by those who knew him, but Mr. Dalton by those who didn't.

"Excuse me, Phil, but I would like to have a word with Mr. Dalton."

Phil knew at once that Hannington was one of those who didn't know
Rattlesnake Jim.

The Englishman called Dalton over.

"Say, old chap,--have a drink!"

Dalton had one.

"What about that horse, Dalton? Have you sold her yet?"

"No siree! I'll sell her when I get my price. I ain't in no hurry."

"Well, you know I offered you two hundred and fifty for her."

"And she's yours for five hundred bucks."

Phil interfered.

"Oh, come off the grass! What do you take my friend for?"