catch on to what he was laughing at, and pretty soon went on
with his digging. We stayed there three days and dug the whole place up
and took back with us a basket full of stone axes, arrow-heads, three
large prehistoric vases, and the mummy. He drove the wagon himself every
step of the way, for fear something would get broken, and when we got
to Flagstaff he spent two days packing the relics."

"Do you consider that sort of thing quite honorable?" I asked.

"Honorable? What is that you say, you squint-eyed dude? Now, my boy,
don't get fresh with me just because I am dead and can't jump you."

I hastened to pacify him.

"Well, that's all right, but if you had said that to me last year when I
was alive I would have marked squares all over your body with a piece of
chalk and then played hop-scotch on you."

"I meant no offence," I said humbly.

"Maybe you didn't. But just you make another break like that, and I
won't forget it; you will have to die sometime, and then,--oh, mamma!"

"Is your partner dead?" I asked.

"No, Jim is not dead by a long shot. I went down to see him last winter
at his place in California, where he has opened up a new store. He has
a good tourist trade--made a lot of money this year out of mermaids and
sea-devils--there was a run on sea-devils this winter. He makes them out
of fishes.

"The mermaids he makes out of fishes' tails and Indian children--robs
the graveyards, you know. Some of them are really fine and artistic. I
tell you he is an artist in his line.

"He has a branch store still somewhere in New Mexico, and made a stack
of money last winter in Navajo blankets and scalp-trimmed Indian arms
and shields. It is the scalp trimming which catches the tourist. He gets
most of his scalps from California, from hospitals there; but when he is
short, horse hair does pretty well, especially for old Indian scalps.

"And then, Navajo blankets. Holy smoke, a gold mine isn't in it! They
make them of Germantown wool and aniline dyes, and they cost at the
factory all the way from six bits to $10, and sell to the tourist for
various prices; sometimes as high as $75 or $80. Oh, I tell you he is
shrewd; some day he will be worth a million!

"Sometimes a chap goes into his shop and poses as an expert--those are
the kind of jays that fill Jim's soul with joy. The fellow will pull
over a pile of blankets, and after looking at them wisely, will say,
'Haven't you got any real good blankets? These are