When Mr. Riley's reluctant guest entered the store of the Yukon Trading Company, in which, on account of its size, the meeting was to be held, he fully intended to take a back seat, and slip out as soon as he could do so unnoticed. The place was so filled with miners, however, that there were no back seats, and, to his surprise, the crowd pressed aside as he and Mr. Riley entered, so as to leave a passage to the farther end of the room. A moment later, without knowing just how it had been done, he found himself seated beside Jalap Coombs's friend, Skiff Bettens, who obligingly made a place for him. He noticed with some curiosity that twelve men were seated on benches directly opposite to him, while all the rest of the crowd were standing. Between him and these men was an open space, at the upper end of which were a table and a chair raised on a rude platform. To this platform Mr. Platt Riley made his way, and seating himself in the chair, rapped on the table for silence. Then, rising, he said: "Gentlemen of the jury and fellow-citizens, this court is now open for business, and I as its Judge, elected by your votes, am prepared to administer justice in accordance with your laws, and such verdicts as may be rendered by your jury." "It is a court," thought Strengel, with a shiver. "The case to be tried this morning," continued the Judge, "is one that touches the pocket, the life, and the honor of every miner in the Yukon Valley; for the prisoner at the bar is indicted on three separate counts as a thief, a murderer, and an unmitigated scoundrel. He has come into our camp under a false name and with a false story, after having attempted the destruction of a steamer that is bringing goods and machinery, of which we are greatly in need. "He is charged with robbing and leaving helpless in the wilderness a man whom we all know and respect, and also with robbing and deserting while seriously ill his own companion who was on his way to visit us in behalf of our old-established trading company." Strengel listened to these terrible words with an ever-increasing paleness and visible agitation. Finally, clapping a hand to his face as though seized with a sudden illness, he started to rise and leave the room. "Sit down," ordered Skiff Bettens, in a low tone, at the same time jerking him back to his seat. Then the man knew that he was indeed a prisoner. "To prove these serious charges," continued the Judge, "I am about to call several witnesses. At the same time the prisoner will be given the privilege of cross-questioning them and of pleading in his own behalf. Mr. Philip Ryder." At this summons Phil advanced from the farther end of the room, and the prisoner regarded him with undisguised amazement. After answering the usual questions regarding his personality and business, Phil was asked if he knew the prisoner. "I do," he answered. "What is his name?"