“Of course he did,” said Demorest severely. “They always do. Nothing kills a man more quickly than an action of that kind.” Nevertheless the two partners regarded Barker rummaging among some loose clothes and papers with a kind of paternal toleration. “If you can't find them, bring out your government bonds,” suggested Stacy. But the next moment, flushed and triumphant, Barker rose from his knees, and came toward them carrying some papers in his hands. Demorest seized them from him, opened them, spread them on the table, examined hurriedly the date, signatures, and transfers, glanced again quickly at the newspaper paragraph, looked wildly at Stacy and then at Barker, and gasped: “By the living hookey! it is SO!” “B'gosh! he HAS got 'em!” echoed Stacy. “Twenty shares,” continued Demorest breathlessly, “at ten thousand dollars a share--even if it's only a foot--is two hundred thousand dollars! Jerusalem!” “Tell me, fair sir,” said Stacy, with sparkling eyes, “hast still left in yonder casket any rare jewels, rubies, sarcenet, or links of fine gold? Peradventure a pearl or two may have been overlooked!” “No--that's all,” returned Barker simply. “You hear him! Rothschild says 'that's all.' Prince Esterhazy says he hasn't another red cent--only two hundred thousand dollars.” “What ought I to do, boys?” asked Barker, timidly glancing from one to the other. Yet he remembered with delight all that day, and for many a year afterward, that he saw in their faces only unselfish joy and affection at that supreme moment. “Do?” said Demorest promptly. “Stand on your head and yell! No! stop! Come here!” He seized both Barker and Stacy by the hand, and ran out into the open air. Here they danced violently with clasped hands around a small buckeye, in perfect silence, and then returned to the cabin, grave but perspiring. “Of course,” said Barker, wiping his forehead, “we'll just get some money on these certificates and buy up that next claim which belongs to old Carter--where you know we thought we saw the indication.” “We'll do nothing of the kind,” said Demorest decidedly. “WE ain't in it. That money is yours, old chap--every cent of it--property acquired before marriage, you know; and the only thing we'll do is to be damned before we'll see you drop a dime of it into this Godforsaken hole. No!” “But we're partners,” gasped Barker. “Not in THIS! The utmost we can do for you, opulent sir--though it ill becomes us horny-handed sons of toil to rub shoulders with Dives--is perchance to dine with you, to take a pasty and a glass of Malvoisie, at some restaurant in Sacramento--when you've got things fixed, in honor of your return to affluence. But more would ill become us!” “But what are YOU going to do?” said Barker, with a half-hysteric, half-frightened smile.