know, I think the Count is the one to be really sorry for. Dave Walsh
never did know that she was false to him. And she does not suffer. Her
darkness is merciful to her."

I lay silently under the blankets for the space of a minute.

"Is the Count still in the country?" I asked.

But there was a gentle sound of heavy breathing, and I knew Lon McFane
was asleep.




THE PASSING OF MARCUS O'BRIEN


"It is the judgment of this court that you vamose the camp . . . in the
customary way, sir, in the customary way."

Judge Marcus O'Brien was absent-minded, and Mucluc Charley nudged him in
the ribs. Marcus O'Brien cleared his throat and went on--

"Weighing the gravity of the offence, sir, and the extenuating
circumstances, it is the opinion of this court, and its verdict, that you
be outfitted with three days' grub. That will do, I think."

Arizona Jack cast a bleak glance out over the Yukon. It was a swollen,
chocolate flood, running a mile wide and nobody knew how deep. The earth-
bank on which he stood was ordinarily a dozen feet above the water, but