dall, moodily.

Unfastening the belt, Hubel untied the inner bag, and poured the
contents upon the table. A roll of bank bills fell upon it. There were
within twenty bills of the denomination of one thousand pounds each, on
the Bank of England, and a folded paper, which, on being opened, proved
to be a copy of the last will and testament of Paul Hubel. By its
provisions a sum amounting to about ten thousand dollars was given "to
my old and tried friend, Albert Perry."

"Al, put that ten thousand into this vessel last year, and I persuaded
him to put thirty thousand of your money in, too. We made money last
spring, and I kept trying to get him to buy all of her. He took a
dislike to your sister, and said he would hold on to the money until he
found you. Last summer he secured a passage on a vessel bound to the
Labrador, and only that he got sick, I believe he would have seen you
then.

"This last winter we had several quarrels about the money, but I never
meant to injure him until the day it happened. We were having splendid
luck, when he proposed that we should climb the berg, as he feared being
caught between the pack and the islands. We had to ascend on the
opposite side, and when we got to the top, we saw the storm brewing to
windward, and started to return.

"As we came along the ice-foot, I said, 'You're making money this trip
fast. Isn't that better than giving up everything to that sullen girl
and a half-breed boy?' Then he seemed sad, and said, 'George, you've
made a rascal of me; but, thank God, I've made up my mind to be true to
my old comrade at last.'

"'What do you mean?' said I.

"'I mean,' said he, turning to me, 'that I've sold out the shares I
bought with that thirty thousand, and I've got their money safe here in
this belt.'

"'But you don't mean to be such a fool as to give it up--do you?' said
I; for I was angry to think that, instead of the four shares I had
counted on all along, we should have but one in the division of the
profits.

"And then I taunted him with a fatal quarrel long ago, and he--well, he
taunted me with a crime that I thought no one knew. Says he,--

"'I'm not afraid of you. If the rope is ready for my neck, you could
scarcely live out the time, between the sentence and the gallows, if the
people of San Francisco once listened to your trial.'

"So one word brought on another, and at last he shook his gaff at me,
and made one step; and my blood was on fire, and I fired