ophecy, and finally determined on
another vigil outside Grump's hut.

Meanwhile, Grump's Pet, as Mix had been nicknamed, afforded the camp a
great deal of amusement. He was not at all reserved, and was easily
drawn out on the subject of his protector, of whom he spoke in terms of
unmeasured praise.

"By the piper that played before Moses," said one of the boys one day,
"ef half that boy sez is true, some day Grump'll hev wings sprout
through his shirt, an' 'll be sittin' on the sharp edge uv a cloud an'
playin' onto a harp, jist like the other angels."

As for Grump himself, he improved so much that suspicion was half
disarmed when one looked at him; nevertheless the colonel deemed it
prudent to watch the Pet's landlord on the night preceding the express
day.

The colonel timed himself by counting the games of old sledge that were
played. At the end of the sixth game after dark he made his way to
Grump's hut and quietly located himself at the same crack as before.

The Pet and his friend were both lying down, but by the light of the
fire the colonel could see the eyes of the former were closed, while
those of the latter were wide open. The moments flew by, and still the
two men remained in the same positions, the Pet apparently fast asleep,
and Grump wide awake.

The interior of a miner's hut, though displaying great originality of
design, and ingenious artistic effects, becomes after a time rather a
tiresome object of contemplation. The colonel found it so, and he
relieved his strained eyes by an occasional amateur astronomical
observation. On turning his head, with a yawn, from one of these, he saw
inside the hut a state of affairs which caused him to feel hurriedly for
his pistol.

Grump had risen upon one elbow, and was stealthily feeling with his
other hand under the Pet's head.

"Ha!" thought the colonel; "right at last."

Slowly Grump's hand emerged from beneath the Pet's head, and with it
came a leather bag containing gold dust.

The colonel drew a perfect bead on Grump's temple.

"I'll jest wait till you're stowin' that away, my golden-haired beauty,"
said the colonel, within himself, "an' then we'll see what cold lead's
got to say about it."

Grump untied the bag, set it upon his own pillow, drew forth his own
pouch, and untied it; the colonel's aim remained true to its unconscious
mark.

"Ef that's the game," continued the colonel, to himself, "I reckon the
proper time to play my trump is ju