Silver and Gold. Coolidge Dane

him,” went on Bunker with painful distinctness, “and gave him a close shave while the horse was bucking, only cutting his throat three times.”

      “You’re a liar!” yelled the Professor and, stamping his foot, he hustled vengefully off down the trail.

      “Say, who is that old boy?” enquired Big Boy curiously, “he might know where I’d find that gold.”

      “Who–him?” jeered Bunker, “why, that old stiff wouldn’t know a chunk of gold if he saw it. All he does is to snoop around and watch what I’m doing, and if he ever thinks that I’ve picked up a live one he butts in and tries to underbid me. Now I’ll tell you what I’ll do, I’ll get you a horse and show you all over the district, and any claim I’ve got that you want to go to work on, you can have for five hundred dollars. Now, that’s reasonable, ain’t it? And yet, the way things are going, I’m glad to let you in on it. If you strike something big, here I’ve got my store and mine, and plenty of other claims, to boot; and if there’s a rush I stand to make a clean-up on some of my other properties. So come up to the house and meet my 41 wife and daughter, and we’ll try to make you comfortable. But that old feller─”