d to give little heed to the trial, and sat with the
strikers rather stolidly. Venire after venire of jurymen was gone
through. At last an old man wearing a Loyal Legion button went into the
jury-box. Balderson saw him; they exchanged recognising glances, and
Balderson turned scarlet and looked away quickly. He nudged an attorney
for the strikers and said: "Keep him, whatever you do."

After the evidence was all in and the attorneys were about to make their
arguments, Balderson and one of the lawyers for the strikers were alone.

"They told me to take the part about you, Balderson; you were in the
Union Army, weren't you?"

Balderson looked at the floor and said:

"Yes; but don't say anything about it."

The lawyer, who knew Balderson's record, was astonished. He had made his
whole speech up on the line that Balderson as an old soldier would
appeal to the sympathies of the jury. Over and over the lawyer pressed
Balderson to know why nothing should be said of his soldier record, and
finally in exasperation the lawyer broke out:

"Lookee here, Baldy; you're too old to get coy. I'm going to make my
speech as I've mapped it out, soldier racket and all. I guess you've
taken enough trips up Look Out Mountain to get used to the altitude by
this time."

The lawyer started away, but Balderson grabbed him and pulled him back.
"Don't do it; for God's sake, don't do it! There's a fellow on that jury
that's a G. A. R. man; we were soldiers together; he knows me from away
back. Talk of Iowy; talk of Kansas; talk of anything on God's green
earth, but don't talk soldier. That man would wade through hell for me
neck deep on any other basis than that." Balderson's voice was
quivering. He added: "But don't talk soldier." Balderson slumped, with
his head in his hands. The attorney snapped at him:

"Weren't you a soldier?"

"Yes; oh, yes," Balderson sighed.

"Didn't you go up Look Out Mountain?"

"Oh, yes--that, too."

There was a silence between the men. The lawyer rasped it with, "Well,
what then?"

"Well--well," and the tousled little man sighed so deeply his sigh was
almost a sob, and lifted up the eyes of a whipped dog to the
lawyer's--"after that I got in the commissary department--and--and--was
dishonourably discharged." He rubbed his eyes with his fingers a moment
and then grinned foxily: "Ain't that enough?"

Roosevelt is a mining-camp in Idaho. It is five days from a morning
paper, and the camp is new. It is a lo