e other a glass of whiskey. Without the slightest hurry or
excitement, his blue eyes twinkling as humorously as ever, McNally
dumped the whiskey over the bully's shock head with his left hand and
touched the match to it with his right. The alcohol sizzled up in a
momentary blue flame, without damage save for a very singed head of
hair.

"Man on fire! Man on fire!" yelled McNally. "Put him out!"

The miners rose to the occasion joyously, and "put him out" in the most
literal fashion; so that no more was seen of that bully.

About ten o'clock we were getting tired; and probably the reaction from
the "42 calibre whiskey" was making us drowsy. We hunted up Johnny,
still at his faro game; but he positively and impatiently declined to
accompany us. He said he was ahead--or behind--I forget which. I notice
both conditions have the same effect of keeping a man from quitting. We
therefore left him, and wandered home through the soft night, wherein
were twinkling stars, gentle breezes, little voices, and the silhouettes
of great trees.

CHAPTER XX

THE GOLD WASHERS

Johnny did not return at all that night, but showed up next morning at
the diggings, looking blear-eyed and sleepy. He told us he had slept
with a friend, and replied rather curtly that he was a "little behind
the game." I believe myself that he was cleaned out; but that was none
of our business. Every night we divided the dust into five parts. Don
Gaspar and Vasquez got two of these. The remainder we again divided into
four. I took charge of Talbot's share. We carried the dust always with
us; for the camp was no longer safe from thieves.

In order to effect this division we had to have some sort of scales. I
went up to the single store to see what I could do. The storekeeper was
a drawling, slow, down-east Yankee, perpetually chewing a long sliver or
straw, talking exclusively through his nose, keen for a bargain,
grasping of the last cent in a trade, and yet singularly interesting and
agreeable. His sense of dry humour had a good deal to do with this. He
had no gold scales to lend or to hire, but he had some to sell. The
price was fifteen dollars for an ordinary pair of balances worth not
over a dollar and a half.

"And you'll find that cheap, if the miners keep coming in as fast as
they do," said he. "In two weeks they'll be worth fifty."

We bought them, and obtained from them great satisfaction. Vasquez used
to weigh his gold at night, and agai