ar style does His
Majesty affect this morning?'

He pulled out a showbill. 'Peculiarly gaudy and effective, is it not?'

The items announced were sufficiently attractive. The 'Frisco Opera
Company were to produce the 'screaming farce,' 'The Gay and Giddy Dude';
after which there was to be a 'Grand Ball,' during which the 'Kalifornia
Female Kickers' were to do some fancy figures; the whole to be followed
by a 'big supper' with 'two free drinks to every man and one to the
lady,' and all for the insignificant sum of two dollars.

'Can't you go one better?' I said.

He looked inquiringly and a little disgustedly at me.

'What can you do against free drinks and a dance, not to speak of the
"High Kickers"?' he groaned.

'No!' he continued; 'it's a clean beat for us today. The miners and
lumbermen will have in their pockets ten thousand dollars, and every
dollar burning a hole; and Slavin and his gang will get most of it.
But,' he added, 'you must have breakfast. You'll find a tub in the
kitchen; don't be afraid to splash. It is the best I have to offer you.'

The tub sounded inviting, and before many minutes had passed I was in
a delightful glow, the effect of cold water and a rough towel, and that
consciousness of virtue that comes to a man who has had courage to face
his cold bath on a winter morning.

The breakfast was laid with fine taste. A diminutive pine-tree, in a pot
hung round with wintergreen, stood in the centre of the table.

'Well, now, this looks good; porridge, beefsteak, potatoes, toast, and
marmalade.'

'I hope you will enjoy it all.'

There was not much talk over our meal. Mr. Craig was evidently
preoccupied, and as blue as his politeness would allow him. Slavin's
victory weighed upon his spirits. Finally he burst out, 'Look here! I
can't, I won't stand it; something must be done. Last Christmas this
town was for two weeks, as one of the miners said, "a little suburb of
hell." It was something too awful. And at the end of it all one young
fellow was found dead in his shack, and twenty or more crawled back to
the camps, leaving their three months' pay with Slavin and his suckers.

'I won't stand it, I say.' He turned fiercely on me. 'What's to be
done?'

This rather took me aback, for I had troubled myself with nothing of
this sort in my life before, being fully occupied in keeping myself out
of difficulty, and allowing others the same privilege. So I ventured
the consolation that he had done