the degree of influence which they would exercise upon the mood and
disposition of the assassin at that time of the night."

(Buzz of admiration; muttered remark, "By George, but he's deep.") He
fingered his clues. "And now let us ask these mute witnesses to speak to
us.

"Here we have an empty linen shot-bag. What is its message? This: that
robbery was the motive, not revenge. What is its further message?
This: that the assassin was of inferior intelligence--shall we say
light-witted, or perhaps approaching that? How do we know this? Because
a person of sound intelligence would not have proposed to rob the man
Buckner, who never had much money with him. But the assassin might have
been a stranger? Let the bag speak again. I take from it this article.
It is a bit of silver-bearing quartz. It is peculiar. Examine it,
please--you--and you--and you. Now pass it back, please. There is but
one lode on this coast which produces just that character and color of
quartz; and that is a lode which crops out for nearly two miles on a
stretch, and in my opinion is destined, at no distant day, to confer upon
its locality a globe-girdling celebrity, and upon its two hundred owners
riches beyond the dreams of avarice. Name that lode, please."

"The Consolidated Christian Science and Mary Ann!" was the prompt
response.

A wild crash of hurrahs followed, and every man reached for his
neighbor's hand and wrung it, with tears in his eyes; and Wells-Fargo
Ferguson shouted, "The Straight Flush is on the lode, and up she goes to
a hunched and fifty a foot--you hear me!"