camp. It always had an ugly bull-dog tied to the door--was itself
a low, suspicious-looking structure that year by year sank lower as the
grass grew taller around it, till it seemed trying to hide in the
chaparral. It had but one occupant, a silent, selfish man, who never
came out by day except to bury himself alone in his claim at work.
Nothing was known of him at all, save the story that he had killed his
partner in a gambling-house away back somewhere in '51. He was shunned
and feared by all, and he approached and spoke to no one except the
butcher, the grocer, and expressman; and to these only briefly, on
business. I believe, however, that the old cripple, Baboon, sometimes
sat on the bank and talked to the murderer at work in his claim. It was
even said that Baboon was on fair terms with the dog at the door.

This solitary man of the savage dog was, as you guess, "The Gopher."
That was not the name given him by his parents, but it was the name the
camp had given him a generation before, and it was now the only name by
which he was known. The amount of gold which he had hoarded and hidden
away in that dismal old cabin, through years and years of incessant
toil, was computed to be enormous.

Year after year the grass stole farther down from the hill-tops to which
it had been driven, as it were, in the early settlement of the camp; at
last it environed the few remaining cabins, as if they were besieged,
and it stood up tall and undisturbed in the only remaining trail. Still
regularly three times a day the smoke curled up from the Gopher's cabin,
and the bull-dog kept unbroken sentry at the door.

In the January spring that followed, the grass and clover crept down
strong and thick from the hills, and spread in a pretty carpet across
the unmeasured streets of the once populous and prosperous camp. Little
gray horned toads sunned themselves on the great flat rocks that had
served for hearth-stones, and the wild hop-vines clambered up and across
the toppling and shapeless chimneys.

About this time a closely-contested election drew near. It was a bold
and original thought of a candidate to approach the Gopher and solicit
his vote. His friends shook their heads, but his case was desperate, and
he ventured down upon the old gray cabin hiding in the grass and
chaparral. The dog protested, and the office-seeker was proceeding to
knock his ugly teeth down his throat with a pick-handle, when the door
opened, and he found th