step across the street and tone up our systems at my expense, thereby wipin' out any animosity.' So, of course, rather than be peevish, I done it. Then I tried to wipe out some animosity, but he wouldn't have it. Nobody must buy but him. I explained—givin' myself dead away—that I was a stranger, with nothin' to do but hate myself to death, and he was defraudin' me of a rightful joy. But no, says he. I might be a stranger, or I might not. Personally he thought I'd resided some time in New York City, by my looks; if that was so I knew perfectly well he was only follerin' the customs of the place, and if I was a stranger it was up to him to do right by me, anyhow. So we grew one degree stronger with no cost to Utah. And we stayed there, gettin' powerful as anything, and kind of confidential, too, till finally he felt called upon to explain his business with this man Johnson. He took me into a back room to do it.

"'Mr. Scraggs,' says he, 'there's things betwixt Heaven and Earth that ain't dreamt of on your velocipede, Horatio.'

"'Ya-a-as,' says I.

"'Sh-h-h,' says he, 'not so loud. Here's the opportunity of a lifetime goin' on the loose for want of a man. That durn Johnson has lost his golden show. It's a very strange story,' says he.

"'Ya-a-as,' says I. He looked at me a minute, but Lord! How was a poor Mormon to hold suspicions? So he goes on.

"'At first,' he says, 'you might git the idee there was somethin' jubeeous in these preceedin's, but there ain't. I knew a man that once upon a time was the honestest man ever lived. Honest? Why, I've known that man to go to bed weepin', he felt so bad to learn George Washington stole a march on the enemy. "I never would have believed it of George if it hadn't been in the book," he says. That's the kind of a man he was—just your sort to a dot. Well, sir, he has an honest claim agin these United States for damage and raisin' the divil with his farm durin' the Civil War. And do you suppose these here United States, E Pluribus Unum, In God We Trust, paid that bill? Not on the tintype of your grandfather. When he goes to Washington with it, the President he says, "Now, I'd pay you this in a minute, Billy," he says, "but think of them Congressmen!" and the President he shakes his head and Billy comes home again. And from that time on, before his very eyes, he has to see his widder and eighteen helpless children die of starvation through not havin' enough to eat, right in front of his face—ain't that fierce?' says he.

"'Ya-a-as,' says I.

"'Well, at last this man gets a job in the Treasury; it didn't pay much—just enough to live on. He had charge of the banknotes before the Secretary signs 'em, to make good. Now, here comes in the curious part of it: my friend's handwritin' and the Secretary's handwritin' was that much alike neither man could tell one from t'other. This gives my friend the idee of how to break even with Uncle Sam. He just naturally laid his hooks on ten thousand dollars' worth of one-hundred-dollar notes and flew the coop, waitin' to sign 'em and dispose of 'em at leisure, thus payin' his own claim. But here comes a hitch; after he done it his conscience bit him; the notes was good; he passed a lot of 'em with no trouble, but he quit on the play. Now, if some good, honest man, yet not quite so honest as all that, wanted to turn a dollar, he could buy two thousand dollars' worth of them bills for one hundred ordinary cold money. It's this way, too,' says he. 'It ain't only conscience; the old man's mortal scart; he's always dreamin' of Secret Service men comin' in on rubbers. Now, ain't that an opportunity?'

"'Ya-a-as,' says I.

"'Well,' says he, lookin' at his watch, 'it's now my time to eat, Mr. Scraggs, and I've took up so much of your valuable time chinnin' here, I don't feel I could do less than share my simple repast with you. I'm a stock-broker myself,' he says, 'but none of these durned rich ones, so if you can stand for once to eat a meal not exceedin' five dollars in price, why, come along!' says he.

"Then we went into a high-toned vittel dispensary, I bet you. Jeemima! but she was gold and white paint to knock your eye out. I'll never tell you what I et, but it was good food. And to wind up, come little cups of coffee and big seegars. It was beautiful. Then says my man, 'Well, this is a day in a hundred. I can't tell you how good it makes me feel in this city of sin to come across a square man like yourself—what do you say to a bottle of wine?'

"'Ya-a-as,' says I. With life ripplin' along like this I was endorsin' the whole time-table.

"Wine is a mawker. The first small glass of it hadn't gone whistlin' down afore she begun to mawk me. 'Ezekiel!' says she, 'be merry; disport yourself—where's your game blood? Try a fall with this gentleman.'

"'Ya-a-as,' says I to myself. And then I says aloud and hearty, 'My friend, you've used me right. It ain't that I want to make money, but just to help your friend along; I haven't any greenbacks much in my possession, but,' I says, 'if you're willin' to arrange a dicker, whereby I exchange eighteen ounces of nuggets—the present market value of Chink Creek gold bein' seventeen dollars and forty cents per ounce—for two thousand dollars of your friend's bills, it bein' herein stated and provided that you can pass 'em like you say you can to my satisfaction, why, I'm your little huckleberry, waitin' to get picked.'

"'I got you,' says he, and we shook hands. 'You go to your hotel and bring the dust,' says he, 'and I'll slide along and make the old man sign the bills. I'll meet you on the corner where we met before.'

"So I met him on the corner, and we went up-stairs to a room where a little old man was signin' bills fast and furious.

"'Slide out one,' says my friend, 'till I take Mr. Scraggs out and prove I'm no liar.'

"The old man carefully blotted a hundred-dollar green and away we goes to a bank. It was a sure-enough bank. Outside was the name in big letters and inside was the man called 'teller' that won't tell you nothin' and looks as if he hated you, like all good banks has.

"'Fives and tens for this, please,' says my friend. That teller never quit thinkin' of his dyspepsy, but chucked the stuff right over the counter.

"'How's that?' says my friend, when we got outside.

"'All right,' says I. 'And here's my plunder.' I let him heft the bag.

"'Heavy truck, ain't it?' he said. 'But we can always stand the weight, can't we?' He picked out one of them glitterin' Chinese works of art and regarded it real lovin'. 'Yes,' says he, 'it's sure nice stuff. Hurry along and we'll close the dicker.'

"Up-stairs the old gent had the money ready for me to count.

"'Correct?' says he.

"'Ya-a-as,' says I.

"'Well, I'll put 'em in a neat bundle for you,' says he. When that was done I handed my precious gold over.

"'Now, come here and have one last drink of satisfaction,' says my friend. I turned to the table and imbibed my last tonic at his expense.

"'Here you are, sir,' says the little old man, handin' me my package. 'And much obliged to you; only remember this: Secret Service men is all about; don't open her till you get safely in your room—mind that, now! Good-day.'

"Down the steps I goes, ker-thump, ker-thump. But when I reached the street I begun to wonder to myself if I hadn't better just see what those fellers would do next—no harm in ketchin' on to as many city ways as possible—so I hid under the stoop till they come out, glancin' sharp this way and that, but missin' Ezekiel George