ng that he was himself a sham
desperado, though a genuine thief and highwayman, had been made to feel
uneasy while in Bradley's company.

"I wonder what became of them?" continued Mosely, thoughtfully.

As Tom Hadley's special phrase could not come in here appropriately, he
forbore to make any remark.

"He thought he would scare me by his fierce talk," said Mosely, who
would hardly have spoken so confidently had he known that Bradley was
only two miles distant from him at that identical moment. "It takes a
good deal to scare a man like me--eh, Tom?"

"I should say so," returned Hadley, but it was noticeable that he spoke
rather dubiously, and not with his usual positiveness.

"I'm a hard man to handle," continued Mosely, complacently, relapsing
into the style of talk which he most enjoyed. "I'm as bad as they make
'em."

"I should say so," chimed in Tom Hadley; and there was nothing doubtful
in his tone now.

Bill Mosely looked at him as if he suspected there was something
suspicious under this speech, but Tom Hadley wore his usual look, and
his companion dismissed his momentary doubt. "You never saw me afraid of
any living man--eh, Tom?"

"I should say so," answered Hadley.

There was something equivocal in this speech, and Bill Mosely looked
vexed.

"Can't you say anything but that?" he grumbled. "It looks as if you
doubted my statement. No man doubt my word--and lives."

Tom Hadley merely shrugged his shoulders. He was not a man of brilliant
intellectual ability or of rare penetration, but there were times when
even he was led to suspect that his companion was a humbug. Yet Mosely
had greater force of character, and took uncommon pains to retain his
ascendency over his more simple-minded companion, and had in the main
been successful, though in the matter of the gold-dust he had been
obliged to score a defeat.

As Hadley did not see fit to express any doubt of this last statement,
Bill Mosely was content to let the matter drop, assuming that he had
gained a victory and recovered his ascendency over his echo.

They had met no one for some hours, and did not look for an encounter
with anything wearing the semblance of humanity, when all at once Tom
Hadley uttered an exclamation.

"What is it, Tom?" asked Mosely.

"Look there!" was the only answer, as Hadley, with outstretched finger,
pointed to a Chinaman walking slowly up the hill.

"It's a heathen Chinee!" exclaimed Mosely with animation.

"I s