it seemed to him, and Doctor Thomas's refusal to share in the coming
legacy struck him as silly; it was the result of a warped and unsound
philosophy. But argue as he would he could not shake his friend's
opinion of the matter.

One evening, not long after his visit to town, Bill's toothache
returned again to plague him. He raised groans and hoarse profanities,
and then, while the crew was still at supper, he abandoned his work
and set out in search of relief. But he did not go to Nome. Once
out of sight of the mine he doubled back and came out behind the
superintendent's cabin. A moment later he was stretched out in the
narrow, dark space beneath Black Jack's bunk. Dust irritated Bill's
lungs, therefore he had carefully swept out the place that morning;
likewise he had thoughtfully provided himself with a cotton comforter
as protection to his bones. He had no intention of permitting himself
to be taken at a disadvantage, and knowing full well the painful
consequences of discovery he opened his bone-handled pocket-knife and
tested its keen edge with his thumb. In the interests of peace and
good-fellowship, however, he hoped he could go through the night
without coughing.

Slevin was the first to return from supper. He went directly to his
bunk, drew a bottle of whisky from beneath his pillow, poured himself
a drink, and replaced the bottle. When Berg entered he went through a
similar procedure, after which a fire was built, the men kicked off
their boots, lit their pipes, and stretched out upon their beds.

"I've been thinking it over," the superintendent began, "and you can't
do it."

"Why not?" queried Slevin. "I told his nibs I was sick of the grub."

"Foremen don't quit good jobs on account of the grub. You've got to
stick till fall; then we'll both go. We'll strike the old man for a
raise--"

"Humph! He'll let us go, quick enough, when we do that. Let's strike
him now. I'm through."

"Nothing stirring," Berg firmly declared. "We'll play out the string.
I'm taking no chances."

"Hell! Ain't we takin' a chance every day we stay here? I'm getting
so I don't sleep. I got enough to do me; I ain't a hog. I got a bully
corner all picked out, Jack--best corner in Seattle for a gin-mill."

"It'll wait. Corners don't get up and move. No, I won't hold the
bag for you or for anybody," declared the former speaker. "We'll go
through, arm in arm. Once we're away clean you can do what you like.
Me for the Argentine a