ommissioner away them Canadian
officials went after him like they was killin' snakes, and it cost him
all he had made to get clear. If it had happened across the line, the
coroner's jury would have freed him, 'cause the commissioner was drunk
and started the row; but it happened right in Stark's saloon, and you
know Canucks is stronger than vitriol for law and order. Not bein' his
first offence, it went hard with him."

"He looks like a killer," said Burrell.

"Yes, but he ain't the common kind. He always lets the other man begin,
and therefore he ain't never done time."

"Come, now," argued the Lieutenant, "if it were the other man who
invariably shot first, Stark would have been killed long ago."

"I don't care what WOULD have happened, it 'AIN'T happened, and he's
got notches on his gun till it looks like a cub bear had chawed it. If
you was a Western man you'd know what they say about him."

"'The bullet 'ain't been run to kill him.' That's the sayin'. You
needn't grin, there's many a better man than you believes it."

"Who is it that the bullet hasn't been run to kill?" said the trader's
deep voice behind them. He had finished with his duties, and now
sauntered forward.

"Ben Stark," said Lee, turning. "You know him, John?"

"No, I never saw him, but I know who he is--used to hear of him in the
Coeur d'Alenes."

"That's him I was talking to," said the miner. "He's an old friend of
mine, and he's going to locate here."

Burrell thought he saw Lee wink at the trader, but he was not sure, for
at that moment the man of whom they were speaking re-entered. Lee
introduced him, and the three men shook hands. While the soldier fell
into easy conversation with the new-comer, Gale gazed at him narrowly,
studying him as he studied all men who came as strangers. As he was
doing so Alluna entered, followed by Johnny and Molly. She had come for
sugar, and asked for it in her native tongue. Upon her exit Stark broke
off talking to the Lieutenant and turned to the trader.

"Your squaw, Mr. Gale?"

The old man nodded.

"Pah-Ute, eh?"

"Yes. Why, do you savvy the talk?"

"Some. I lived in California once."

"Where?" The question came like a shot.

"Oh, here and there; I followed the Mother Lode for a spell."

"I don't recall the name," said the trader, after a bit.

"Possibly. Where were you located?"

"I never lit on any one place long enough to call it home."

It seemed to Burrell that both men were spar