audie, as though this were conclusive--"had business in
town, did you?"

Mr. Butts declined to answer.

"You thought the gold-mine out on the gulch could wait--and the
gold-mine in my cabin couldn't."

"You lie!" remarked Mr. Butts.

"What time did you get to Idaho Bar?" asked Corey.

"Didn't get there at all."

"Where were you?"

"Here in Rampart."

"What?"

"Wait! Wait!" commanded the Judge, as the crowd rocked towards Butts:
"P'raps you'll tell us what kept you at home?"

Butts shut his mouth angrily, but a glance at the faces nearest him
made him think an answer prudent.

"I was tired."

The men, many of them ailing, who had nearly killed themselves to get
to Idaho Bar, sneered openly.

"I'd been jumpin' a claim up at Hunter."

"So had Charlie. But he joined the new stampede in the afternoon."

"Well, I didn't."

"Why, even the old cripple Jansen went on this stampede."

"Can't help that."

"Mr. Butts, you're the only able-bodied white man in the district that
stayed at home." Corey spoke in his, most judicial style.

Mr. Butts must have felt the full significance of so suspicious a fact,
but all he said was:

"Y' ought to fix up a notice. Anybody that don't join a stampede will
be held guilty o' grand larceny." Saying this Butts had backed a step
behind the stove-pipe, and with incredible quickness had pulled out a
revolver. But before he had brought it into range, No-Thumb-Jack had
struck his arm down, and two or three had sprung at the weapon and
wrested it away.

"Search him!"

"No tellin' what else he's got!"

"----and he's so damned handy!"

"Search him!"

Maudie pressed forward as the pinioned man's pockets were turned out.
Only tobacco, a small buckskin bag with less than four ounces of dust,
a pipe, and a knife.

"Likely he'd be carrying my stuff about on him!" said she, contemptuous
of her own keen interest.

"Get out a warrant to search Butts' premises," said a voice in the
crowd.

"McGinty and Johnson are down there now!"

"Think he'd leave anything layin' round?"

Maudie pressed still closer to the beleaguered Butts.

"Say, if I make the boys let you go back to Circle, will you tell me
where you've hid my money?"

"Ain't got your money!"

"Look at 'im," whispered Charlie, still so terrified he could hardly
stand.

"Butts ain't borrowin' no trouble."

And this formulating of the general impression did Butts no good. As
they had watched the calm demeanou