"No " Lee had come into his own at last, and was a hero, for the story of his long ill-luck was common gossip now, and men praised him for his courage. He had never been praised for anything before and was uncertain just how to take it.
"Say, are these people kiddin' me?" he inquired, , of Poleon.
"W'y? Wat you mean?"
"Well, there's a feller makin' a speech about me down by the landing."
"Wat he say?"
"It ain't nothin' to fight over. He says I'm another Dan'l Boom, leadin' the march of empire ."
"Dat's nice, for sure."
"Certainly sounds good, but is it on the level?"
"Wal, I guess so," admitted Poleon.
The with indignation. "Then, why in hell didn't you fellers tell me long ago?"
The ounce or two of gold from his claim lay in the scales at the post, where every new-comer might examine it, and, realizing that he was a never-ending source of information, they on him for his tips, him with newspapers, worth a dollar each, or with cigars, which he wrapped up carefully and placed in his mackinaw till every pocket of the garment so that he could not sit without losing them. They dwelt upon his lightest word, and stood him up beside the bar where they filled him with proofs of until he shed tears from his one good eye.
He had formed a habit of born of his years of poverty, and was so widely known as a tight man by the hundreds who had lent to him that his never at any time hoped for a reckoning. And he never offered one; on the contrary, he had invariably flown into a rage when dunned, and exhibited such as to discourage the practice. Now, however, the surly humor of the man began to , and in gradual stages he unloosened, the process being attended by a disproportionate growth of the trader's cash receipts. Cautiously, at first he let out his wit, which was logy from long disuse, and as heavy on its feet as the Jumping Frog of Calaveras, but when they laughed at its leaps and sallies his confidence grew. With the of a clock he planted cigars and ordered "a little more hard stuff," while his roving eye rejoiced in , its over-burden losing itself in the of his careless beard. By-and-by he wandered through the town, trailed by a troop of tenderfeet, till the women marked him, whereupon he fled back to the post and hugged the bar, for he was a bashful man. When 's new place opened it offered him another retreat of which he availed himself for some time. But late in the evening he reappeared at Old Man 's store, walking a bit unsteadily, and as he mounted the flight of logs to the door he stepped once too often.
"What's become of that fourth step?" he demanded, sharply, of Poleon.
"Dere she is," said the Frenchman.
"I'm damned if it is. You moved it since I was here."
"I'll have 'im put back," laughed the other.
"Say! It's a grand thing to be rich, ain't it?"
"I don' know, I ain' never try it."
"Well, it is; and now that I've arrived, I'm goin' to change my ways complete. No more extravagance in mine—I'll never lend another cent."
"Wat's dat?" ejaculated Doret, in .
"No more hard-luck stories and 'hurry-ups' for mine. I'm the stony-hearted jailer, I am, from now, henceforth, world 'thout end, amen! No miners need apply. I've been a good thing, but to-night I turn on the time-lock."
"Ba gosh! You're fonny feller," laughed Poleon, who had lent the one-eyed man much money in the past and, like others, regarded him not merely as a bad risk but as a total loss. "Mebbe you t'ink you've been a spen't'rif all dese year."
"I've certainly blowed a lot of money on my friends," Lee acknowledged, "and they're welcome to what they've got so far, but I'm goin' to chop all them habits and put on the tin vest. I'll run the solderin'-iron up my seams so they can't get to me without a can-opener. I'm air-tight for life, I am." He in his pockets and unwrapped a gift cigar, then felt for a match. Poleon tossed one on the bar, and he reached for it twice, missing it each time.
"I guess dose new frien' of yours is mak' you purty full, M'sieu' Tin Vest."
"Nothin' of the sort. I've got a bad dose of indigestion."
"Dat's 'orrible disease! Dere's plaintee riche man die on dat seecknesse. You better lie down."
Doret took the hero of the day by the arm and led him to the rear of the store, where he bedded him on a pile of flour sacks, but he had hardly returned to the bar when Lee came out of the dimness, making for the light like a ship towards a .
"What kind of flour is that?" he spluttered.
"Dat's just plain w'eat flour."
"Not on your life," said the miner, with the firmness of a great conviction. "It's full of powders. Why, it's r'arin' and risin' like a buckin' hoss. I'm sea-sick." He laid a course for the door.
"W'ere you goin'?" asked Poleon.
"I'm goin' to get somethin' for this stomach trouble. It's fierce." He into the darkness boldly, and stepped off with confidence—this time too soon. Poleon heard him floundering about, his indignant voice raised irascibly, with a note of triumph.
"Wha'd I tell you? You put it back while I was ashleep." Then whistling , if somewhat out of , he for the new saloon to get something for his "stomach trouble."
At Stark's he found a large crowd of the new men who welcomed him , him with questions, and harking to his tales of this new country which to him was old. He had followed the muddy river from Lake to the , searching the bars and creek-beds in a tireless quest, till he knew each stream and , for he had been one of the band that used to venture from Juneau on the spring snows, disappearing into the uncharted valley of the Yukon, to return when the river and grew , and, like Gale, he had lived these many years ahead of the law where each man was his own court of appeals and where crime was unknown. He had helped to build camps like Forty Mile and Circle; he knew by heart the by-laws and rules that governed every town and mining district in the country; he knew every man and child by name, but, while many of his friends had , unceasing ill-luck had dogged him. Yet he had held to honesty and hard work, measuring a man by his ability to swing an or a , and, despite his , regarding theft as the one crime deserving capital punishment.
"Oh, there's lots of countries worse'n this," he declared. "We may not be very han'some to the naked eye, and we may not wear our handk'chiefs in our shirt , but there ain't no widders and doin' our washin', and a man can walk away from his house, stay a month, and find it there when he comes back."
"Those days are past," said Stark, who had joined in the discussion. "There's too many new people coming in for all of them to be honest."
"They'd better be," said Lee, aggressively. "We ain't got no room for stealers. Why, I had a hand in makin' the by-laws of this camp myself, 'long with John Gale, and they stip'lates that any person caught robbin' a cache is to be publicly whipped in front of the tradin'-post, then, if it's winter time, he's to be turned loose on the ice barefooted, or, if it's summer, he's to be set adrift on a log with his shirt off."
"Either one would mean certain death," said a stranger. "Frost in winter, mosquitoes in summer!"
"That's all right," another bystander declared. "A man's life depends on his grub up here, and I'd be in favor of enforcing that punishment to the letter if we caught any one thieving."
"All the same, I take no chances," said Stark. "There's too many strangers here. Just to show you how I stand, I've put Runnion on guard over my pile of stuff, and I'll be glad when it's under cover. It isn't the severity of punishment that keeps a man from going wrong, it's the certainty of it."
"Well, he'd sure get it, and get it proper in this camp," declared Lee; and at that moment, as if his words had been a challenge, the flaps of the great tent were thrust aside, and Runnion half led, half threw a man into the open space before the bar.
"Let's have a look at you," he panted. "Well, if it ain't a nigger!"
"What's up?" cried the men, crowding about the prisoner, who , terror-stricken, in the mud and , while those playing roulette and "bank" left the tables, followed by the .
"He's a thief," said Runnion, mopping the sweat from his brow. "I caught him after your grub pile, Stark."
"In my cache?"
"Yes. He dropped a of hams when I came up on him, and tried to run, but I dropped him." He held his Colt in his right hand, and a of blood from the negro's head showed how he had been felled.
"Why didn't you shoot?" Stark, angrily, at which the negro half arose and broke into excited denials of his . Runnion kicked him , and cursed him, while the crowd murmured approval.
"Le' me see him," said Lee, elbowing his way through the others. Fixing his one eye upon the , he impressively.
"You're the first downright thief I ever seen. Was you hungry?"
"No, he's got plenty," answered one of the tenderfeet, who had evidently arrived on the boat with the darky. "He's got a bigger than I have."
The prisoner drew himself up against the bar, facing his enemies .
"Then I reckon it's a divine manifestation," said "No Creek" Lee, tearfully. "This black party is goin' to furnish an example as will elevate the moral tone of our community for a year."
"Let me take him outside," cried Stark, reaching under the bar for a weapon. His eyes were cruel, and he had the angry pallor of a dangerous man. "I'll save you a lot of trouble."
"Why not do it legal?" expostulated Lee. "It's just as certain."
"Yes! Lee is right," echoed the crowd, on a Roman holiday.
"What y'all aim to do?" the thief.
"We're goin' to try you," announced the one-eyed miner, "and if you're found guilty, as you certainly are goin' to be, you'll be flogged. After which perdicament you'll have a nice ride down-stream on a saw-log without your laundry."
"But the mosquitoes—"
"Too bad you didn't think of them before. Let's get at this, boys, and have it over with."
In far countries, where men's lives depend upon the safety of their food supply, a side of bacon may mean more than a bag of gold; therefore, protection is a necessity. And though any one of those present would have gladly fed the negro had he been , each of them likewise knew that unless an example were made of him no tent or cabin would be safe. The North being a gameless, forbidding country, has ever been cruel to thieves, and now it was heedless of the black man's growing terror as it set about to try him. A miners' meeting was called on the spot, and a messenger sent hurrying to the post for the book in which was recorded the laws of the men who had made the camp. The crowd was that this should be done legally and as prescribed by ancient custom up and down the river. So, to make itself doubly sure, it gave Runnion's evidence a hearing; then, taking lanterns, went down to the big tarpaulin-covered pile beside the river, where it found the crate of hams and the negro's tracks. There was no defence for the culprit and he offered none, being too scared by now to do more than plead. The were simple and quiet and grim, and were wellnigh over when Burrell walked into the tent saloon. He had been in his quarters all day, fighting a fight with himself, and in the late evening, rebelling against his conditions and the war with his conscience, he had sallied out, and, by the crowd in Stark's place, had entered.
A man replied to his whispered question, giving him the story, for the meeting was under Lee's domination, and the miners maintained an orderly and business-like procedure. The chairman's indigestion had vanished with his sudden assumption of responsibility, and he showed no trace of drink in his bearing. Beneath a lamp one was four-foot lengths of cotton tent-rope to a broomstick for a knout, while others, whom Lee had appointed, were drawing lots to see upon whom would devolve the unpleasant duty of flogging the captive. The matter-of-fact, expedition of the affair shocked Burrell inexpressibly, and seeing Poleon and Gale near by, he edged towards them, thinking that they surely could not be in sympathy with this barbarous procedure.
"You don't understand, Lieutenant," said Gale, in a low voice. "This nigger is a THIEF!"
"You can't kill a man for stealing a few hams."
"It ain't so much WHAT he stole; it's the idea, and it's the custom of the country."
"Whipping is enough, without the other."
"Dis stealin' she's bad biznesse," declared Poleon. "Mebbe dose ham is save some poor feller's life."
"It's mob law," said the Lieutenant, indignantly, "and I won't stand for it."
Gale turned a look of curiosity upon the officer. "How are you going to help yourself?" said he; but the young man did not wait to reply. Quickly............