The crowd silently watched Jim for a moment, and then broke out in a chorus of “bravos!” and hand clappings which, although they impressed the object of their admiration not at all--even if he noticed them, which is doubtful--expressed in unmistakable language a sudden change in the sentiment of our towns-people toward him whom they had so recently outlawed. The first burst of applause over with, we watched the brave fellow in almost breathless anxiety, as he skilfully directed his little boat toward the house, the Chinaman meanwhile having stopped his yelling for the moment, in anticipation of the approach of his rescuer. Whether Jim had intended to bring up against the side of the house that lay up-stream, as seemed wisest, would be difficult to say; if such was his intention however, he certainly miscalculated, for his boat disappeared behind the end of the house which was farthest away from us. The rest of the tragedy we could not see, for we had hardly lost sight of Jim before the obstructing debris gave way and the house shot over the dam, sweeping everything before it! So died a hero! A searching party went out a short time afterward, and, at great risk, found and secured the body of Poker Jim, battered and bruised, but still classically handsome and debonair, even in death. As the boys were sorrowfully returning to town with the body of the man whom a few hours before they had tried to kill, they spied upon a mass of wreckage that had lodged in a partially submerged tree-top a few feet from shore, a badly frightened but still yelling individual, at the sight of whom Big Brown almost collapsed. It was the Chinaman! * * * * * Early the next morning, a cortége composed of every citizen who was able to walk, climbed slowly and sorrowfully up the road leading to the little cemetery, just back of town. At the head of the solemn procession were six stout miners, hat in hand, bearing upon a rude stretcher the body of Poker Jim. Just behind the body, another party was carrying a rough coffin, composed of pieces of wreckage, hastily thrown together. By no means the least sorrowful feature of the funeral was the fact that we had no means of communication with the dead man’s wife, nor did we indeed, even know whether or not she had witnessed his death. The cemetery reached, and the body having been laid in the clumsy coffin beside the grave which the kind-hearted miners had already dug, there was an embarrassing pause-- I had been asked to say a few words, in lieu of a clergyman, and had agreed to do so, on condition that some one else was selected to say something in behalf of the mining population proper. Dixie was selected to coöperate with me, but was evidently waiting for me to give him his cue, so I was obliged to open the services as well as I could.