the superintendent's cabin
he noticed a tiny yellow flake of gold upon the floor in front of
Slevin's bed. Careful examination showed him several "colors" of the
same sort, so he swept the boards carefully and took up the dust in
a "blower." He breathed upon the pile, blowing the lighter particles
away. A considerable residue of heavy yellow grains remained. With
a grin Bill folded them in a cigarette paper and placed them in his
pocket. But it puzzled him to explain how there came to be gold on the
cabin floor. His surprise deepened when, a few days later, he found
another "prospect" in the same place. His two sweepings had yielded
perhaps a pennyweight of the precious metal--enough to set him to
thinking. It seemed queer that in the neighborhood of Black Jack's
bunk he could find no pay whatever.

Slevin had left his hip boots in the cabin, and as Laughing Bill
turned down their tops and set them out in the wind to dry his sharp
eye detected several yellow pin-points of color which proved, upon
closer investigation, to be specks of gold clinging to the wet lining.

"Well, I be danged!" said Mr. Hyde. Carefully, thoughtfully, he
replaced the boots where he had found them. The knowledge that he was
on a hot trail electrified him.

At the next clean-up Laughing Bill took less interest in his part of
the work and more in Denny Slevin's. When the riffles were washed,
and the loose gravel had been worked down into yellow piles of rich
concentrates, Slevin, armed with whisk broom, paddle, and scoop,
climbed into the sluices. Bill watched him out of a corner of his eye,
and it was not long before his vigilance was rewarded. The hold-up
man turned away with a feeling of genuine admiration, for he had
seen Slevin, under the very nose of the lookout, "go south" with a
substantial amount of gold.

The foreman's daring and dexterity amazed Bill and deepened his
respect. Slevin's work was cunning, and yet so simple as to be almost
laughable. With his hip boots pulled high he had knelt upon one knee
in the sluice scooping up the wet piles of gold and black iron sand,
while Berg held a gold pan to receive it. During the process Black
Jack had turned to address the vigilant owner's representative, and,
profiting by the brief diversion, Bill had seen Denny dump a heaping
scoop-load of "pay" into the gaping pocket-like top of his capacious
rubber boot.

"The sons-of-a-gun!" breathed Laughing Bill. "The double-crossing
sons-of-a-