earnest, until steadily all the energy of his splendid body was
applied, and quite imperceptibly, without jerk or strain, the
bulky nine hundred pounds rose from the door and swung back and
forth, pendulum like, between his legs.

Olaf Henderson sighed a vast audible sigh. The Virgin, who had
tensed unconsciously till her muscles hurt her, relaxed. While
French Louis murmured reverently:--

"M'sieu Daylight, salut! Ay am one beeg baby. You are one beeg
man."

Daylight dropped his burden, leaped to the floor, and headed for
the bar.

"Weigh in!" he cried, tossing his sack to the weigher, who
transferred to it four hundred dollars from the sacks of the two
losers.

"Surge up, everybody!" Daylight went on. "Name your
snake-juice! The winner pays!"

"This is my night!" he was shouting, ten minutes later. "I'm
the lone he-wolf, and I've seen thirty winters. This is my
birthday, my one day in the year, and I can put any man on his
back. Come on, you-all! I'm going to put you-all in the snow.
Come on, you chechaquos [1] and sourdoughs[2], and get your
baptism!"

[1] Tenderfeet. [2] Old-timers.