course, knew something about chemistry, was helping him to work an
amalgamator into it; a careful comparison of bets showed this to be a
fairly accepted opinion, and so the matter rested.

Meanwhile, Buffle had been untiring in his search, as his horse, could
he have spoken, would have testified. Men wondered what Berryn had done
to Buffle, and odds of ten to one that some undertaker would soon have
reason to bless Buffle were freely offered, but seldom taken. One night
Buffle's horse galloped into Deadlock Ridge, and the rider, hailing the
first man he met, inquired the way to the saloon.

"I don't know," replied the man.

"Come, no foolin' thar," said Buffle, indignantly.

"I don't know, I tell you--I don't drink."

"Hang yer!" roared Buffle, in honest fury at what seemed to him the most
stupendous lie ever told by a miner, "I'll teach yer to lie to me." And
out came Buffle's pistol.

The man saw his danger, and, springing at Buffle with the agility of a
cat, snatched the pistol and threw it on the ground; in an instant
Buffle's hand had firmly grasped the man by his shirt-collar, and, the
horse taking fright, Buffle, a second later, found in his hand a torn
piece of red flannel, a chain, and a locket, while the man lay on the
ground.

"At last!" exclaimed Buffle, convinced that he had found his man; but
his emotions were quickly cooled by the man in the road, who, jumping