d-fashioned horse-pistol over a foot long.

"What do you want?" demanded one of the miners of Earl, as the latter
pushed his way forward through the fast-gathering crowd. "This ain't no
place fer a young rooster like you."

"I would like to see the prisoner, please," answered Earl. "I think I
know him."

"You ain't the feller's pard, are ye?" demanded the second guard,
suspiciously.

"No. I am from Maine, and I knew a Guardley up there who came to these
diggings. I wanted to find out if it was the same man."

"Say, is that Earl Portney?" came from within, and both Earl and Randy
recognized Jasper Guardley's voice. "If it is, I'd like to talk to him."

"Yes, Guardley," answered Earl. "What's the trouble?"

[Illustration: "I WOULD LIKE TO SEE THE PRISONER, PLEASE."--_Page 196._]

"Can't you come in and talk to me?"

"I'll come in if the guards will allow it," and Earl looked at the men.

"Go on in; but leave yer gun with me, if yer got one," was the reply,
from the man who had first addressed Earl.

"I haven't any pistol," said the youth, and passed into the shed. Randy
was about to follow, but the guard stopped him. "One's enough, my lad;
you wait outside." And Randy fell back into the crowd, which kept
increasing every minute.

From those around him, Randy learned that Guardley was being held for
the theft of eighty ounces of gold dust, which had been buried by a
miner, named Cozzins, under the flooring of his tent. Cozzins had missed
his gold that morning, and three other miners had testified to seeing
Guardley sneaking around the place, in company with another man,
presumably Tom Roland. Roland and the gold were both gone, and Guardley
had been "collared" just as he was about to leave for Dawson City. The
miners around Smedley's had held a meeting, and it was likely that
Guardley's crime would cost him his life.

"For you see we ain't got no jails here," explained one miner. "An' to
leave sech a measly critter run would be puttin' a premium on crime."

When Earl came out of the shed his face was very pale, and he was on the
point of passing the guards without a word, when they stopped him.
"Well, wot did ye make out?" demanded one, laconically.

"He says he didn't take the gold--that the robbery was planned and
executed by his partner. It is awful to think of taking his life."

"It's his own fault, lad--he should have thunk o' those things afore he
consented to help on the job."

"When will they--t