ile at me and mingled with the other pedestrians
crossing the street on diagonal course. As I had not been invited to
accompany her I stood, gratefully digesting her remarks. When I turned for
a final word with my two guides, they had vanished.

This I interpreted as a confession of jealous fear that I had been, in
slang phrasing, "put wise." And sooth to say, I saw them again no more.

CHAPTER VI

"HIGH AND DRY"

The counsel to don a garb smacking less of the recent East struck me as
sound; for although I was not the only person here in Eastern guise,
nevertheless about the majority of the populace there was an easy
aggressiveness that my appearance evidently lacked.

So I must hurry ere the shops closed.

"I beg your pardon. What time do the stores close, can you tell me?" I
asked of the nearest bystander.

He surveyed me.

"Close? Hell!" he said. "They don't close for even a dog fight, pardner.
Business runs twenty-five hours every day, seven days the week, in these
diggin's."

"And where will I find a haberdashery?"

"A what? Talk English. What you want?"

"I want a--an outfit; a personal outfit."

"Blanket to moccasins? Levi's, stranger. Levi'll outfit you complete and
throw in a yellow purp under the wagon."

"And where is Levi's?"

"There." And he jerked his head aside. "You could shut your eyes and spit
in the doorway."

With that he rudely turned his back upon me. But sure enough, by token of
the large sign "Levi's Mammoth Emporium: Liquors, Groceries and General
Merchandise," I was standing almost in front of the store itself.

I entered, into the seething aisle flanked by heaped-up counters and
stacked goods that bulged the partially boarded canvas walls. At last I
gained position near one of the perspiring clerks and caught his eye.

"Yes, sir. You, sir? What can I do for you, sir?" He rubbed his hands
alertly, on edge with a long day.

"I wish a hat, flannel shirt, a serviceable ready-made suit, boots,
possibly other matters."

"We have exactly the things for you, sir. This way."

"Going out on the advance line, sir?" he asked, while I made selections.

"That is not unlikely."

"They're doing great work. Three miles of track laid yesterday; twelve so
far this week. Averaging two and one-half miles a day and promising
better."

"So I understand," I alleged.

"General Jack Casement is a world beater. If he could get the iron as fast
as he could use it he'd build through