Corliss, still in the dark, lifted his head and watched them go; but when he saw the pocket-miner swerve abruptly to the right and take the trail up Adams Creek, the light dawned upon him and he laughed softly to himself.
Late that night Del arrived in camp on Eldorado exhausted but jubilant.
"Didn't do a thing to him," he cried before he was half inside the tent-flaps.

"Gimme a bite to eat" (grabbing at the teapot and running a hot flood down his throat),--"cookin'-fat, slush, old moccasins, candle-ends, anything!" Then he collapsed upon the blankets and fell to rubbing his stiff leg-muscles while Corliss fried bacon and dished up the beans.
"What about 'm ?" he exulted between mouthfuls.

"Well, you can stack your chips that he didn't get in on the French Hill benches.

_How far is it, my man_ ?" (in the well-mimicked, patronizing tones of St.
Vincent).

"_How far is it_ ?" with the patronage left out.