could they drag out of him.

"The stage goes, boys," he told them. "An' personal, I ain't scairt a
cent's-worth of James an' his gang. Though, to see the way you'se
fellers are fallin' over yourselves to make trade with me, I guess I
know some folks as is."

The marvel of the whole thing confounded the public mind. But the
selfishness of human nature demanded that advantage should be taken of
the situation. If Minky, who recently had jibbed at trading gold, had
suddenly eased the market, well, it was "up to him." It was his
"funeral." The public jumped at the chance of realizing, and so
relieving themselves of the cloud of trouble threatening them. James
could come along with a whole army of desperadoes, once they had rid
themselves of their "dust." They then would no longer have anything to
lose except their lives, and those they were always prepared to risk
in anything so enterprising as a little honest gun-play.

It was noon when Wild Bill was stirring. And he listened to the news
which greeted him on every hand with a calmly non-committal air. Nor,
when he found it necessary to comment, did he hesitate to do so in his
usual sharp, decided fashion.

"Minky's good grit," he declared on one occasion to a puzzled miner.
"I don't guess ther's many folks around as 'ud take his chances. I
allow Sufferin' Creek needs to be proud of sech a feller."

And his attitude promptly set up a new feeling in the camp. Minky's
heroic pose had not struck the people before. But now the full force
of it struck home in a manner which suddenly raised him to a great
pinnacle of popularity. The storekeeper of Suffering Creek was
standing between the camp and possible financial disaster. It was
noble. It was splendid. Yes, they had reason to be very thankful to
him.

Bill contemplated the notice long and earnestly when his attention was
first called to it. And his narrow eyes lit and twinkled as he read
down the carefully chalked capitals. Minky had certainly done it well.
But then Minky did most things well. He read it down a second time,
and then pushed his way into the store. It was some time before he
could reach his friend, but finally he got him to himself as he was
poring over a big cash-book. The storekeeper looked up. Nor had he any
greeting for his visitor. He was still dazed at the gambler's purpose.
And somehow it was the latter who had to speak first.

"You done it good, Minky," he said amiably.

"Ther'll be sixty thousa