se, with his shrewd eyes
tightly closed. He was about to speak when the swing-doors opened, and
two strangers strolled in.

Minky greeted them, "Howdy?" and received an amiable response. The
newcomers were ordinary enough to satisfy even the suspicious
storekeeper. In fact, they looked like men from some city, who had
possibly come to Suffering Creek with the purpose of ascertaining the
possibilities of the camp as a place in which to try their fortunes.
Both were clad in store clothes of fair quality, wearing hats of the
black prairie type, and only the extreme tanning of their somewhat
genial faces belied the city theory.

Minky noted all these things while he served them the drinks they
called for, and, in the most approvedly casual manner, put the usual
question to them.

"Wher' you from?" he inquired, as though the matter were not of the
least consequence.

He was told Spawn City without hesitation, and in response to his
remark that they had "come quite a piece," they equally amiably
assured him that they had.

Then one of the men addressed his companion.

"Say, Joe," he said, "mebbe this guy ken put us wise to things."

And Joe nodded and turned to the storekeeper.

"Say, boss," he began, "we've heerd tell this lay-out is a dead gut
bonanza. There's folks in Spawn City says ther's gold enough here to
drown the United States Treasury department. Guess we come along to
gather some." He grinned in an ingratiating manner.

Minky thought before answering.

"Ther' sure is a heap o' gold around. But it ain't easy. I don't guess
you'd gather much in a shovel. You'll get pay dirt that aways, but--"

"Ah! Needs cap'tal," suggested Joe.

"That's jest how we figgered," put in the other quietly.

Minky nodded. Many things were traveling swiftly through his mind.

"Drove in?" he inquired.

"Sure," replied Joe. "Unhooked down the trail a piece."

Bill's eyes opened and closed again. Then he shifted noisily in his
chair. The men turned round and eyed him with interest. Then the man
called Joe called back to the storekeeper.

"My name's Joe Manton," he said, by way of introduction. "An' my
friend's called Sim Longley. Say," he went on, with a backward jerk of
the head, "mebbe your friend'll take something?"

Minky glanced over at Wild Bill. The gambler drowsily opened his eyes
and bestirred himself.

"I sure will," he said, rearing his great length up, and moving across
to the counter. "I'll take Rye, mis