that was alternately amusing and pathetic. They had never intruded upon
the reserve of the three partners of Heavy Tree Hill before; nothing but
an infantine curiosity, a shy recognition of the partners' courtesy in
inviting them with the whole population of Heavy Tree to the dinner the
next day, and the never-to-be-resisted temptation of an evening of "free
liquor" and forgetfulness of the past had brought them there now.
Among them, and yet not of them, was a young man who, although speaking
English without accent, was distinctly of a different nationality and
race. This, with a certain neatness of dress and artificial suavity
of address, had gained him the nickname of "the Count" and "Frenchy,"
although he was really of Flemish extraction. He was the Union Ditch
Company's agent on the Bar, by virtue of his knowledge of languages.

Barker uttered an exclamation of pleasure when he saw him. Himself the
incarnation of naturalness, he had always secretly admired this young
foreigner, with his lacquered smoothness, although a vague consciousness
that neither Stacy nor Demorest shared his feelings had restricted their
acquaintance. Nevertheless, he was proud now to see the bow with which
Paul Van Loo entered the cabin as if it were a drawing-room, and perhaps
did not reflect upon that want of real feeling in an act which made the
others uncomfortable.

The slight awkwardness their entrance produced, however, was quickly
forgotten when the blanket was again lifted from the pan of treasure.
Singularly enough, too, the same feverish light came into the eyes of
each as they all gathered around this yellow shrine. Even the polite
Paul rudely elbowed his way between the others, though his artificial
"Pardon" seemed to Barker to condone this act of brutal instinct. But it
was more instructive to observe the manner in which the older locators
received this confirmation of the fickle Fortune that had overlooked