"Waal, I only wanted to say that I've knowed Mr. Jalap Coombs off and on for a good many years, and in all that time I've never knowed him to tell a lie nor yet do a mean thing. Moreover I'm willing to stake my life on his honesty agin that of any living man, for a better sailor, a squarer man, and a truer friend never trod a deck." This sincere tribute so affected the simple-hearted sailor-man that he could only stare open-mouthed at the speaker as though he were talking in some mysterious language, though in after-years he often referred to this as the proudest moment of his life. The remainder of the audience greeted the Marshal's little speech with an outburst of applause which the Judge was finally obliged to check. "Letting charge number two rest with the testimony taken," said the Judge, when quiet was restored, "we will take up charge number three, which is the most serious of all. We have already learned that the accused, under the name of Strengel, passed old Fort Adams about a month ago, bound for this place in company with a man named Goldollar, who appears to be a pretty tough character himself, though that of course has nothing to do with this case. The accused at that time had little, or nothing of his own, either in the way of money or outfit, while Goldollar appears to have been well fixed with both. Now this man turns up in this place alone under the name of Bradwick, telling a story about having come up the Porcupine, that he has since admitted to be false, and in possession of the outfit formerly owned by Mr. Coombs and Simon Goldollar. Of course, under the circumstances, the question naturally to be asked is what has become of Goldollar?" "He got sick of the trip and turned back from Yukon," explained the prisoner, sulkily. "Yes, we've heard he took sick," replied the Judge; "but whether he turned back, or was left to die in an Indian rancheria is another question. Mr. Coombs, will you please take the stand again?" This time Jalap Coombs testified that he had carefully examined the outfit brought into camp the night before by the prisoner, and found it to contain the same number of sledges, the same number of dogs, and the identical articles, with the exception of a certain quantity of provisions that had composed it at old Fort Adams. "We will now call on one other witness," announced the Judge, and the prisoner started as though he expected to see Simon Goldollar himself appear on the stand. What he did see was one of his native drivers from Fort Yukon, with Kurilla to act as interpreter. "Do you admit Injun testimony in this court?" he asked. "Certainly we do," replied the Judge. "If I'd known that," he muttered, "I'd have bought a dozen or so to testify on my side." The Indian's testimony was to the effect that this white man had left another white man in a native hut at Fort Yukon so sick that all the Indians thought he would die.