succeeded by logs, a gable of coffin misfits and cracker-boxes, and a
roof of bark and canvas--Buffle and three other miners were playing "old
sledge."

The table was an empty pork-barrel; the seats were respectively, a block
of wood, a stone, and a raisin-box, with a well-stuffed knapsack for the
tallest man.

On one side of the shanty was a low platform of hewn logs, which
constituted the proprietor's couch when he slept; on another was the
door, on the third were confusedly piled Buffle's culinary utensils, and
on the fourth was a fireplace, whose defective draft had been the agent
of the fine frescoing of soot perceptible on the ceiling. A single
candle hung on a wire over the barrel, and afforded light auxiliary to
that thrown out by the fireplace.

The game had been going largely in Buffle's favor, as was usually the
case, when one of the opposition injudiciously played an ace which was
clearly from another pack of cards, inasmuch as Buffle, who had
dealt, had the rightful ace in his own hand. As it was the ace of
trumps, Buffle's indignation arose, and so did his person and pistol.

[Illustration: "COME IN," ROARED BUFFLES'S PARTNER. "COME IN, HANG YER,
IF YER LIFE'S INSURED!' THE DOOR OPENED SLOWLY, AND A WOMAN ENTERED.]

"Hang yer," said he, savagely; "yer don't come that game on me. I've got
that ace myself."

An ordinary man would have drawn pistol also, but Buffle's antagonist
knew his only safety lay in keeping quiet, so he only stared vacantly at