r. And he swayed back and
forward, holding on to the bar and listened with all his ears while they
conferred together on one side, and wrangled as to whether they should or
not, and disagreed in stage whispers over the price they should set.

"Two hundred and--hic!--fifty," Bill finally announced, "but we reckon as
we won't sell."

"Which is monstrous wise if I might chip in my little say," seconded
Bidwell.

"Yes, indeedy," added Kink. "We ain't in no charity business
a-disgorgin' free an' generous to Swedes an' white men."

"Ay tank we haf another drink," hiccoughed Ans Handerson, craftily
changing the subject against a more propitious time.

And thereafter, to bring about that propitious time, his own sack began
to see-saw between his hip pocket and the scales. Bill and Kink were
coy, but they finally yielded to his blandishments. Whereupon he grew
shy and drew Bidwell to one side. He staggered exceedingly, and held on
to Bidwell for support as he asked--

"They ban all right, them men, you tank so?"

"Sure," Bidwell answered heartily. "Known 'em for years. Old sour
doughs. When they sell a claim, they sell a claim. They ain't no air-
dealers."

"Ay tank Ay buy," Ans Handerson announced, tottering back to the two men.

But by now he was dreaming deeply, and he proclaimed he would have the
whole claim or nothing. This was the cause of great pain to Hootchinoo
Bill. He orated grandly against the "hawgishness" of _chechaquos_ and
Swedes, albeit he dozed between periods, his voice dying away to a
gurgle, and his head sinking forward on his breast. But whenever roused
by a nudge from Kink or Bidwell, he never failed to explode another
volley of abuse and insult.

Ans Handerson was calm under it all. Each insult added to the value of
the claim. Such unamiable reluctance to sell advertised but one thing to
him, and he was aware of a great relief when Hootchinoo Bill sank snoring
to the floor, and he was free to turn his attention to his less
intractable partner.

Kink Mitchell was persuadable, though a poor mathematician. He wept
dolefully, but was willing to sell a half-interest for two hundred and
fifty dollars or the whole claim for seven hundred and fifty. Ans
Handerson and Bidwell laboured to clear away his erroneous ideas
concerning fractions, but their labour was vain. He spilled tears and
regrets all over the bar and on their shoulders, which tears, however,
did not wash away his opini