ts, tunnels and
cross-cuts extending for miles in all directions, and connecting the
various mining claims one with another.

He knew the name and face of nearly every man employed in the various
shifts, and by his keen perception and insight, was able to form a
very correct estimate of their character and standing in that little
community. Though no words had been exchanged between himself and Jack
beyond those of the most commonplace greetings, yet his respect for
the man, and confidence in him, increased with each day, and was
plainly indicated by his manner toward him whenever they met.

As he watched the men, in his frequent rounds through the mines,
most of their faces were to him as an open book, on some of whose
pages he read histories of misfortune and loss, or crime and shame in
the past, and on others, of eager ambitions and bright hopes for the
future. There were men with gray hair and bowed forms, whose dull
eyes and listless step told of hopeless, irretrievable loss; men
of intelligence and ability whose recklessness or whose despondency
told of some living sorrow, worse than death; there were some whose
stealthy, shrinking gait and watchful, suspicious glance bespoke
some crime, unknown to their fellows, but which to themselves seemed
ever present, suspended, like the sword of Damocles, above their
heads.

But even to Houston, Jack remained a mystery, and as he noted the
powerful, athletic form, the profile of patrician beauty, perfect as
though chiseled in marble, the hair and beard black and glossy as the
raven's wing, though touched with silver here and there, he found
himself unable to read the history of that life.

"There is a man," he soliloquized, "my equal, if not my superior, in
birth, in education, in intellectual ability; how came he here? What
has wrecked his life?"

But the dark, piercing eyes, turned on him for an instant, gave no
answer to his query.

As he and Morgan, their day's work completed, were returning to the
house, Houston made some inquiries regarding the men, and from the
information given by Morgan concerning some of them, found his own
judgment of them correct.

"And who is the man called 'Jack,' who works with the Irishman?"

"Heaven knows, I don't, nor nobody else," replied Morgan; "he came
here about six or seven years ago, I guess, at least; he was here when
I came, and was considered an expert then. He never would have
anything to say to the other men, and alw