consulting his memorandum-book, "ez HE got anything out of it."

"It was mortgaged for $7,000," said the lawyer, quickly, "and the
interest and fees amount to about $3,000 more."

"The mortgage was given as security for a note?"

"Yes, a gambling debt," said the lawyer, sharply.

"Thet's so, and my belief ez that it wasn't a square game. He
shouldn't hev given no note. Why, don't ye mind, 'way back in '60,
when you and me waz in Marysville, that night that you bucked agin
faro, and lost seving hundred dollars, and then refoosed to take up
your checks, saying it was fraud and a gambling debt? And don't ye
mind when that chap kicked ye, and I helped to drag him off ye--and--"

"I'm busy now, Mr. Macleod," said Phillips, hastily; "my clerk will
give you all the information you require. Good morning."

"It's mighty queer," said the captain, thoughtfully, as he descended
the stairs, "but the moment the conversation gets limber and
sociable-like, and I gets to runnin' free under easy sail, it's always
'Good morning, Captain,' and we're becalmed."

By some occult influence, all the foregoing conversation, slightly
exaggerated, and the whole interview of the captain with the widow with
sundry additions, became the common property of Sandy Bar, to the great
delight of the boys. There was scarcely a person who had ever had
business or social relations with Roger Catron, whom "The Frozen
Truth," as Sandy Bar delighted to designate the captain, had not
"interviewed," as simply and directly. It is said that he closed a
conversation with one of the San Francisco detectives, who had found
Roger Catron's body, in these words: "And now hevin' got throo'
bizness, I was goin' to ask ye what's gone of Matt. Jones, who was with
ye in the bush in Austraily. Lord, how he got me quite interested in
ye, telling me how you and him got out on a ticket-of-leave, and was
chased by them milishy guards, and at last swam out to a San Francisco
bark and escaped;" but here the inevitable pressure of previous
business always stopped the captain's conversational flow. The natural
result of this was a singular reaction in favor of the late Roger
Catron in the public sentiment of Sandy Bar, so strong, indeed, as to
induce the Rev. Mr. Joshua McSnagly, the next Sunday, to combat it with
the moral of Catron's life. After the service, he was approached in
the vestibule, and in the hearing of some of his audience, by Captain
Dick, with the fol