I made the rest of my pile--it's a mighty little one--much the same way, and now I'm holding tight to what is mine.

I provided your outfit, for, crazy as it seemed, I believed Grenfell's tale, and I figured that you were straight men; but I know what generally happens when the little man goes around the city with a mine to sell." He brought his hand down upon the table with a bang.
"You're going right into Montreal--I'll find the money--and you'll stand off just as long as it seems advisable for the biggest figure.
When this thing's floated, we're going to get our share." Weston, who sat on a packing-case because there was only one chair, glanced around the store.

Its walls were of undressed pine logs, and it was roofed with cedar shingles hand-split.

There were a few dozen bags of somebody's "Early Riser" flour standing upon what appeared to be kegs of nails, and across the room odd cases of canned goods, lumps of salt pork, and a few bags of sugar apparently had been flung together any way.

Building and stock were of the crudest description, and there was certainly nothing about either that suggested any degree of prosperity.