roud," was the answer. "I'm open to drink with any man
who'll set them up for me." When the prospector called the bar-tender,
Black proceeded to prove his willingness to be "treated."

Nothing moved in the unpaved street of the sleepy settlement, when the
slow-footed oxen and lurching wagon had lumbered away. The sun beat
down upon it pitilessly, and the drowsy scent of cedars mingled with
the odors of baking dust which eddied in little spirals and got into
the loungers' throats. The bar-tender was liberal with his ice,
however, and Black became confidential. When he had assured them of
his undying friendship, one of the prospectors asked:

"What's a smart man like you muling rocks around in a river-bed for,
anyway? Can't you strike nothing better down to the cities?"

"No," declared Black, thickly. "Couldn't strike a job nohow when I
left them. British Columbia played out--and I had no money to take me
to California."

"Well," said the prospector, winking at his comrade, "there is
something we might put you on to. The first question is, what kin you
do?"

According to Black's not over-coherent answer, there was little he
could not do excellently. After he had enumerated his capabilities,
the other man said:

"I guess that's sufficient. Come right back with us to 'Frisco and
we'll have a few off days before we start you. This is no country for
a live man, anyway."

Black nodded sagaciously and tried hard to think. He was afraid of
Thurston, but more so of the other man connected with the Enterprise
Company. In San Francisco he would be beyond the reach of either, and
the city offered many delights to a person of his tastes with somebody
else willing to pay expenses.

"I'll come," he promised thickly. "So long as you've got the dollars
I'll go right round the earth with either of you."

"Good man!" commended the prospector. "Bring along another jugful,
bar-tender."

The attendant glanced at the three men admiringly, for the speaker was
plainly sober, and he knew how much money Black had paid him. He went
back to his bottles, and there was nobody to see the other prospector,
who had kept himself in the background, pour something from a little
phial beneath his hand, into Black's liquor.

"Not quite so good as last one. I know 'Frisco. Great time at China
Joe's, you an' me," murmured Black as he collapsed with his head upon
the table. He was soon snoring heavily.

"Your climate has been