oad without our knowing it?

"'You did know it,' says he. 'Did you fellows really think there was any
gold-bearing ore in the Lost Dog? We just run that dust through the mill
along with a lot of worthless rock, and shipped it out open and above
board as our own mill run. There never was an ounce of dust come out of
the Lost Dog, and there never will.' Then he give me back my
gun--emptied--we shook hands, and here I be."

After the next burst of astonishment had ebbed, and had been succeeded
by a rather general feeling of admiration, somebody asked California
John if Jimmy had come back solely for the purpose of clearing up the
mystery. California John had evidently been waiting for this question.
He arose and knocked the ashes from his pipe.

"Bring a candle," he requested the storekeeper, and led the way to the
abandoned Lost Dog. Into the tunnel he led them, to the very end. There
he paused, holding aloft his light. At his feet was a canvas which,
being removed, was found to cover neatly a number of heavy sacks.

"Here's our dust," said California John, "every ounce of it, he said. He
kept about six hundred thousand or so that belonged to Bright: but he
didn't take none of ours. He come back to tell me so."

The men crowded around for closer inspection.

"I wonder why he done that?" Tibbetts marvelled.

"I asked him that," replied California John, grimly, "He said his
conscience never would rest easy if he robbed us babes."

Tibbetts broke the ensuing silence.

"Was 'babes' the word he used?" he asked, softly.

"'Babes' was the word," said California John.

THE TIDE

A short story, say the writers of text books and the teachers of
sophomores, should deal with but a single episode. That dictum is
probably true; but it admits of wider interpretation than is generally
given it. The teller of tales, anxious to escape from restriction but
not avid of being cast into the outer darkness of the taboo, can in
self-justification become as technical as any lawyer. The phrase "a
single episode" is loosely worded. The rule does not specify an episode
in one man's life; it might be in the life of a family, or a state, or
even of a whole people. In that case the action might cover many lives.
It is a way out for those who have a story to tell, a limit to tell it
within, but who do not wish to embroil themselves too seriously with the
august Makers of the Rules.

CHAPTER I

The time was 1850, the plac