r the
immense and awful loneliness of his lot. As Monty thought over the
situation and saw the hopelessness of it, his breath came in quick gasps
until he broke into a sob, and the tears flowed down his scarred and
grimy cheeks.

A low, inquiring mew drew his attention for a moment from his woes. The
camp cat--a ragged, disreputable animal, who owned no master, and
rejected all friendly advances--stood in the door of Monty's cabin, with
an interrogative tail pointing to the zenith and a friendly arch in his
shabby back.

Monty had often tried to make friends with the cat, but Tom had repulsed
him as coldly as the miners themselves. Now in his loneliness the man
was glad to be spoken to, even by the camp cat; and he called it to him,
though without any expectation that the animal would come to him. But
Tom, stalking slowly into the cabin, sprang after a moment's hesitation
into Monty's bunk, and purring loudly in a hoarse voice, as one by whom
the accomplishment of purring had long been neglected, gently and
tentatively licked the man's face, and kneaded his throat with two soft
and caressing paws. A vast sob shook both Monty and the cat. The man put
his arms around the animal, and hugging him closely, kissed his head.
The cat purred louder than ever, and presently laying his head against
Monty's cheek, he drew a long breath and sank into a peaceful slumber.

Monty was himself again. He was no longer alone. Tom, the cat, had come
to him in the hour of his agony and had brought the solace of a love
that did not heed his ugliness. Henceforth he would never be wholly
alone, no matter how strictly the men might enforce their boycott
against him. He no longer cared what they might do or say. He felt the
warm breath of the friendly animal on his cheek. The remnant of its
right ear twitched from time to time and tickled his lip. The long
sinewy paws pressed against his neck trembled nervously, as the cat
dreamed of stalking fat sparrows, or of stealing fried fish. Its hoarse
croupy purr sounded like the sweetest music to the lonely man. "There's
you and me, and me and you, Tom!" said Monty, stroking the cat's ragged
and crumpled fur. "We'll stick together, and neither of us won't care a
cuss what them low-down fellows says or does. You and me'll be all the
world to one another. God bless you forever for coming to me this
night."

From that time onward, Monte Carlo and Tom were the most intimate of
friends. Wherever the man