it'll be worth your while."

"I ain't followin' you because it's worth while, but because I want to,
Chief."

"I know; but a man--every man--likes the counters for the game." He
turned to the table, opened a drawer, and took out a folded paper.
He looked it through carefully, wrote a name on it, and handed it to
Jowett.

"There's a hundred shares in the Northwest Railway, with my regards,
Jowett. Some of the counters of the game."

Jowett handed it back at once with a shake of the head. "I don't live in
Manitou," he said. "I'm almost white, Chief. I've never made a deal with
you, and don't want to. I'm your man for the fun of it, and because I'd
give my life to have your head on my shoulders for one year."

"I'd feel better if you'd take the shares, Jowett. You've helped me, and
I can't let you do it for nothing."

"Then I can't do it at all. I'm discharged." Suddenly, however, a
humorous, eager look shot into Jowett's face. "Will you toss for it?" he
blurted out. "Certainly, if you like," was the reply.

"Heads I win, tails it's yours?"

"Good."

Ingolby took a silver dollar from his pocket, and tossed. It came down
tails. Ingolby had won.

"My corner lot against double the shares?" Jowett asked sharply, his
face flushed with eager pleasure. He was a born gambler.

"As you like," answered Ingolby with a smile. Ingolby tossed, and they
stooped over to look at the dollar on the floor. It had come up heads.
"You win," said Ingolby, and turning to the table, took out another
hundred shares. In a moment they were handed over.

"You're a wonder, Jowett," he said. "You risked a lot of money. Are you
satisfied?"

"You bet, Chief. I come by these shares honestly now."

He picked up the silver dollar from the floor, and was about to put it
in his pocket.

"Wait--that's my dollar," said Ingolby.

"By gracious, so it is!" said Jowett, and handed it over reluctantly.

Ingolby pocketed it with satisfaction.

Neither dwelt on the humour of the situation. They were only concerned
for the rules of the game, and both were gamesters in their way.

After a few brief instructions to Jowett, and a message for Osterhaut
concerning a suit of workman's clothes, Ingolby left his offices and
walked down the main street of the town with his normal rapidity,
responding cheerfully to the passers-by, but not encouraging evident
desire for talk with him. Men half-started forward to him, but he held
them back with a restrainin