MEADE BURRELL FINDS A PATH IN THE MOONLIGHT "No Creek" Lee had come into his own at last, and was a hero, for the story of his long ill-luck was common gossip now, and men praised him for his courage.

He had never been praised for anything before and was uncertain just how to take it.
"Say, are these people kiddin' me ?" he inquired, confidentially, of Poleon.
"W'y?
Wat you mean ?" "Well, there's a feller makin' a speech about me down by the landing." "Wat he say ?" "It ain't nothin' to fight over.

He says I'm another Dan'l Boom, leadin' the march of empire westward." "Dat's nice, for sure." "Certainly sounds good, but is it on the level ?" "Wal, I guess so," admitted Poleon.
The prospector swelled with indignation.

"Then, why in hell didn't you fellers tell me long ago ?" The scanty ounce or two of gold from his claim lay in the scales at the post, where every new-comer might examine it, and, realizing that he was a never-ending source of information, they fawned on him for his tips, bribing him with newspapers, worth a dollar each, or with cigars, which he wrapped up carefully and placed in his mackinaw till every pocket of the rusty garment bulged so that he could not sit without losing them.

They dwelt upon his lightest word, and stood him up beside the bar where they filled him with proofs of friendliness until he shed tears from his one good eye.
He had formed a habit of parsimony born of his years of poverty, and was so widely known as a tight man by the hundreds who had lent to him that his creditors never at any time hoped for a reckoning.