"Oh, mother, an-gel mother, are you waitin'--"


sang the Minstrel, dolefully.

Men looked at one another and were distressingly affected; The Polka had
never witnessed a more painful episode. Throwing a coin at the Minstrel,
Sonora stopped him with an impatient gesture; the latter nodded
understandingly at the same time that Nick, apparently indifferent
to Larkin's collapse, began to dance a jig behind the bar. A look
of scowling reproach instantly appeared on Sonora's face. It was
uncalled-for since, far from being heartless and indifferent to the
man's misfortunes, the little barkeeper had taken this means to distract
the miners' attention from the pitiful sight.

"Boys, Jim Larkins 'lows he's goin' back East," announced Sonora. "Chip
in every mother's son o' you."

Immediately every man at the faro table demanded cash from The Sidney
Duck; a moment later they, as well as the men who were not playing
cards, threw their money into the hat which Sonora passed around. It was
indeed a well-filled hat that Sonora held out to the weeping man.

"Here you are, Jim," he said simply.

The sudden transition from poverty to comparative affluence was too much
for Larkins! Looking through tear-dimmed eyes at Sonora he struggled for
words with which to express his gratitude, but they refused to come; and