"They ’re lookin’ right lively and pleased with themselves," said the proprietor. "I reckon if Canlan comes along to-night it will be worth your while, now that you know the ins and outs of the business, to keep an eye on the three and watch the co-mical game they keep on playin’ with each other. But it can’t go on forever, that there game. I do hope, if they make a bloody end to it, it don’t take place in my house. Times is changed from the old days. I ’ve seen when it was quite an advertisement to have a bit of shooting in your house some night. And if there was n’t enough holes made in the roof and chairs broke, you could make some more damage yourself; and the crowd would come in, and you ’d point out where so-and-so was standing, and where so-and-so was settin’, and tell ’em how it happened, and them listening and setting up the drinks all the time. It certainly was good for business, a little shooting now and then, in the old days. But times is changed, and the sheriff we hev now is a very lively man. All the same, we ain’t done with Lost Cabin Mine yet—and that ain’t no lie." *CHAPTER III* _*Mr. Laughlin’s Prophecy is Fulfilled*_ A sense of exhilaration filled me, as I strolled down town that evening, which I can only ascribe to the rare atmosphere of that part of the world. It was certainly not due to any improvement in my financial condition, nor to any hope of "making my pile" speedily, and to "make a pile" is the predominating thought in men’s minds there, with an intensity that is known in few other lands. I was pondering the story of the Lost Cabin Mine as I went, and in my own mind had come to the decision that Apache Kid and his comrade knew the whereabouts of that bonanza. Canlan, I argued, if he knew its locality at all, must have come by his news before he fell in with his rivals on the waggon road, for after that, according to the hotel-keeper’s narrative, he had had no speech with the dying man.