was furiously angry--as I had expected him to be.

"You've a nerve," he jerked out. "You boys come up here askin' me fer
a thousand dollars. What air you goin' to do?"

"We've no money," said Ajax, "but we've leisure. I dare say we may dig
graves."

"You're two crazy fools."

"We know that, Mr. Spooner."

"I'm a-goin' to tell ye something. Diptheery in this yere country is
worse'n small-pox--and I've seen both." The look of horror came again
into his face. "My wife an' my child died o' diptheery nearly thirty-
five year ago." He shuddered. Then he pointed a trembling finger at
one of the daguerreotypes. "There she is--a beauty! And before she
died--oh, Heaven!" I thought I saw something in his eyes, something
human. Ajax burst out----

"Mr. Spooner, because of that, won't you help these poor people?"

"No! When she died, when the child died, something died in me. D'ye
think I don't know what ye all think? Don't I know that I'm the
ornariest, meanest old skinflint atween Point Sal and San Diego?
That's me, and I'm proud of it. I aim to let the hull world stew in
its own juice. The folks in these yere foothills need thinnin' anyway.
Halloa! What in thunder's this?" Through the door, which we had left
ajar, very timidly, all blushes and dimples, and sucking one small
thumb, came Sissy Leadham. She stood staring at us, standing on one