his imagination, for he paused long enough to bet that
it would be a five-pound powder-can, and Mr. Baker, again willing to
fortify himself against possible loss, accepted the bet in ounces.

Suddenly Boylston's pick brought to light something yellow and
round--something the size of an oyster-can, and wrapped in a piece of
oilskin.

"You've won _one_, bet," whispered Mr. Baker, who was inside before the
yellow package had ceased rolling across the floor.

"Not ef _this_ is it," growled Boylston; "it don't weigh more'n ounce
can, wrapper and all. Might's well see what 'tis, though."

The two men approached the candle, hastily tore off the oilskin, and
carefully shook the contents from the can. The contents proved to be a
small package, labeled: "_My only treasures_."

Boylston mentioned the name of the arch-adversary of souls, while Mr.
Baker, with a well-directed blow of his heel, reduced the can from a
cylindrical form to one not easily described by any geometric term.

Unwrapping the package, Mr. Baker discovered a picture-case, which, when
opened, disclosed the features of a handsome young lady; while from the
wrappings fell a small envelope, which seemed distended in the middle.

"Gold in that, mebbe," suggested Boylston, picking it up and opening it.
It _was_ gold; fine, yellow, and brilliant, but not the sort of gold the
dead man's friends were seeking, for it was a ringlet of hair.

Sadly Mr. Baker put on his coat, careless of the light which streamed
through the window; slowly and sorely they wended their way homeward;
wrathfully they bemoaned their wasted time, as they passed by the
auriferous slumberers of Greenhorn's Bar; depressing was the general
nature of their conversation. Yet they were human in spite of their
disappointment, for, as old Deacon Baggs, who was an early riser,
strolled out in the gray dawn for a quiet season of meditation, he saw
Boylston Smith filling up a little hole he had made on top of Old
Twitchett's grave, and putting the dirt down very tenderly with his
hands.

BLIZZER'S WIFE.

The mining-camp of Tough Case, though small, had its excitements, as
well as did many camps of half a dozen saloon-power; and on the first
day of November, 1850, it was convulsed by the crisis of by far the
greatest excitement it had ever enjoyed.

It was not a lucky "find," for some of the largest nuggets in the State
had been taken out at Tough Case. It was not a grand spree, for _all_