Everybody stared at Abner in genuine surprise and interest, as, with
provoking calmness and a half-lazy manner, he went on,--

"You see, thar was a man down in 'Frisco as knowed him, and saw him in
Sonora during the whole of that three years. He was herding sheep, or
tending cattle, or spekilating all that time, and hadn't a red cent.
Well it 'mounts to this,--that 'ar Plunkett ain't been east of the Rocky
Mountains since '49."

The laugh which Abner Dean had the right to confidently expect came;
but it was bitter and sardonic. I think indignation was apparent in the
minds of his hearers. It was felt, for the first time, that there was
a limit to practical joking. A deception carried on for a year,
compromising the sagacity of Monte Flat, was deserving the severest
reprobation. Of course, nobody had believed Plunkett; but then the
supposition that it might be believed in adjacent camps that they
HAD believed him was gall and bitterness. The lawyer thought that an
indictment for obtaining money under false pretences might be found. The
physician had long suspected him of insanity, and was not certain but
that he ought to be confined. The four prominent merchants thought that
the business-interests of Monte Flat demanded that something should be
done. In the midst of an excited and angry discussion, the door slowly
opened, and old man Plunkett staggered into the room.

He had changed pitifully in the last six months. His hair was a dusty,
yellowish gray, like the chemisal on the flanks of Heavytree Hill; his
face was waxen white, and blue and puffy under the eyes; his clothes
were soiled and shabby, streaked in front with the stains of
hurriedly eaten luncheons, and fluffy behind with the wool and hair of