he
gambler, and now he was ransacking his brain to discover the object of
this desire for a talk. He could find no adequate reason, except it
might be that Bill was repenting of his bargain in purchasing a
half-share in his claim. Yes, it might be that. It probably was that.
He had no doubt bought on inaccurate information. Scipio knew how
misleading and how wild many of the reports which flew about Suffering
Creek were. Besides, he was certain that Bill's information about his
claim, wherever he had got it from, was inaccurate. Yes, no doubt this
was what he wanted to talk about, and the honest-minded man promptly
decided that the gambler should have no cause to blame him. He need
have no doubts. He would by no means hold him to the bargain. He would
return the money--

Suddenly he remembered. He had already spent five dollars of it, and
he went hot and cold at the thought. He had nothing with which to
replace it.

However, he took no further thought, and, as Bill still remained
silent, he plunged into the matter at once.

"I got most all the money with me," he began, in his vague way
expecting the other to understand his meaning. "That is, all but fi'
dollars. Y'see, the kids needed--"

Bill's sharp eyes reached his face with a jump.

"Wot in the name o' blazes--" he cried.

But Scipio did not let him continue.

"I knew ther' wa'n't no gold showin' on my claim," he hurriedly
explained. "So I'll jest hand you back your dollars."

"Square-toed mackinaw!" the gambler cried, his face scarlet. Then he
broke out into one of his harsh laughs. "Say," he went on, with
pretended severity, "you can't squeal that way. I'm in ha'f your
claim, an' I ain't lettin' up my holt on it fer--fer nobody an'
nuthin'. Get that right here. You can't bluff me."

Scipio flushed. He somehow felt very small. The last thing he wanted
Bill to think was that he was trying to do him an injury.

"I'm sorry," he said helplessly. "Y'see, I thought, you needing to
talk to me so bad, you wanted, maybe, to quit my claim."

He turned away, gazing down the wood-lined river. Somehow he could not
face the gambler's stern eyes. Had he seen the sudden softening in
them the moment the other was sure he was unobserved, he might have
been less troubled. But the gambler had no soft side when men's eyes
were upon him.

"'Tain't about your claim I need to talk," Bill said, after a
brief pause. His voice was less harsh, and there was an unusual
thought