etorted Charley.

"He didn't mean you to keep it for yourself, Charley," corrected Mr.
Adams. "That's foolishness. He meant that you should keep it safe
until he could use it."

"Of course," nodded Mrs. Adams. "What had we better do with him,
George?"

"Let him sleep, if he wants to. His feet are getting warm. He'll be
all right."

"Lookee here," blustered the long-nosed man. "I come in for half,
remember. I helped fetch him in. If it hadn't been for my help he'd
have frozen solid where he was, or else the watchman would have picked
him up and taken him off. I'm going, now. I've got business to tend
to--same as before I was interrupted. I left a business errand, to
help fetch him here. Understand? My time's worth money. I know where
this house is, and I know your names; and I'm coming 'round again, to
see what's what. Half that dust is mine, or I'll make you trouble."

"If he doesn't use it, himself, it will go to his kin, sir," returned
Mr. Adams.

"Kin!" snorted the long-nosed man. "He's from the gold fields. Look
at that shirt, and those whiskers and boots; and the dust itself tells
the tale. As like as not he hasn't any kin, within reach; and if he
has, you're a blamed fool to summon 'em. We've got things in our own
hands--understand? Think it over. I'll be 'round. Good-night."

"Good-night," they answered. "Open the door for him, Charley," bade
Mr. Adams.

With a grunty grumble the long-nosed man passed out into the night.
Charley hastened back to look at the unknown again.

From the California gold fields! Think of that! And with two sacks of
gold dust! Who could he be? Where was he going in St. Louis? What
had he seen and done, in California? But here he lay, in a stupor,
with Mr. Adams rubbing his arms and legs, and Mrs. Adams hovering over
with the glass and pitcher.

II

HURRAH FOR THE GOLDEN WEST

As the evening wore on the stranger tossed and murmured more and more,
until it was evident that he was ill with something graver than mere
exposure.

"Charley, I think you'd better go for the doctor," said Mr. Adams,
finally, about eight o'clock, after they all had done what they could.
"This man's getting no better. He looks as though he might have a
fever."

"Yes; that's what I've been thinking, too," nodded Mrs. Adams. "Hurry
on, Charley. And if the doctor isn't there leave word for him to come
as soon as he can."

Out into the cold again, and into the