From the obscurity of the hill slope below came a wonderful tenor voice, modulated by distance and spiritualized by the darkness:-- "When at some future day I shall be far away, Thou wilt be weeping, Thy lone watch keeping." The men looked at one another.

"That's Jack Hamlin," they said.

"What's he doing here ?" "The wolves are gathering around fresh meat," said Steptoe, with his coarse laugh and a glance at the treasure.

"Didn't ye know he came over from Red Dog yesterday ?" "Well, give Jack a fair show and his own game," said one of the old locators, "and he'd clean out that pile afore sunrise." "And lose it next day," added another.
"But never turn a hair or change a muscle in either case," said a third.
"Lord! I've heard him sing away just like that when he's been leaving the board with five thousand dollars in his pocket, or going away stripped of his last red cent." Van Loo, who had been listening with a peculiar smile, here said in his most deprecating manner, "Yes, but did you never consider the influence that such a man has on the hard-working tunnelmen, who are ready to gamble their whole week's earnings to him?
Perhaps not.

But I know the difficulties of getting the Ditch rates from these men when he has been in camp." He glanced around him with some importance, but only a laugh followed his speech.