from his pocket. The muscles of his throat swelled as if he was
swallowing; his lips moved, but no sound issued from them. At
last, with a convulsive effort, he regained a disjointed speech, in
a voice scarcely audible.

"My letter! my letter! It's mine! Give it me! It's my fortune--
all mine! In the tunnel--hill! Masters stole it--stole my
fortune! Stole it all! See, see!"

He seized the letter from Don Caesar with trembling hands, and tore
it open forcibly: a few dull yellow grains fell from it heavily,
like shot, to the ground.

"See, it's true! My letter! My gold! My strike! My--my--my
God!"

A tremor passed over his face. The hand that held the letter
suddenly dropped sheer and heavy as the gold had fallen. The whole
side of his face and body nearest Don Caesar seemed to drop and
sink into itself as suddenly. At the same moment, and without a
word, he slipped through Don Caesar's outstretched hands to the
ground. Don Caesar bent quickly over him, but no longer than to
satisfy himself that he lived and breathed, although helpless. He
then caught up the fallen letter, and, glancing over it with
flashing eyes, thrust it and the few specimens in his pocket. He
then sprang to his feet, so transformed with energy and
intelligence that he seemed to have added the lost vitality of the
man before him to his own. He glanced quickly up and down the
highway. Every moment to him was precious now; but he could not
leave the stricken man in the dust of the road; nor could he carry