“By the piper that played before Moses,” said one of the boys one day, “ef half that boy sez is true, some day Grump’ll hev wings sprout through his shirt, an’ ‘ll be sittin’ on the sharp edge uv a cloud an’ playin’ onto a harp, jist like the other angels.”

As for Grump himself, he improved so much that suspicion was half disarmed when one looked at him; nevertheless the colonel deemed it prudent to watch the Pet’s landlord on the night preceding the express day.

The colonel timed himself by counting the games of old sledge that were played.  At the end of the sixth game after dark he made his way to Grump’s hut and quietly located himself at the same crack as before.

The Pet and his friend were both lying down, but by the light of the fire the colonel could see the eyes of the former were closed, while those of the latter were wide open.  The moments flew by, and still the two men remained in the same positions, the Pet apparently fast asleep, and Grump wide awake.

The interior of a miner’s hut, though displaying great originality of design, and ingenious artistic effects, becomes after a time rather a tiresome object of contemplation.  The colonel found it so, and he relieved his strained eyes by an occasional amateur astronomical observation.  On turning his head, with a yawn, from one of these, he saw inside the hut a state of affairs which caused him to feel hurriedly for his pistol.

Grump had risen upon one elbow, and was stealthily feeling with his other hand under the Pet’s head.

“Ha!” thought the colonel; “right at last.”

Slowly Grump’s hand emerged from beneath the Pet’s head, and with it came a leather bag containing gold dust.

The colonel drew a perfect bead on Grump’s temple.

“I’ll jest wait till you’re stowin’ that away, my golden-haired beauty,” said the colonel, within himself, “an’ then we’ll see what cold lead’s got to say about it.”

Grump untied the bag, set it upon his own pillow, drew forth his own pouch, and untied it; the colonel’s aim remained true to its unconscious mark.

“Ef that’s the game,” continued the colonel, to himself, “I reckon the proper time to play my trump is just when you’re a-pourin’ from his bag into your’n.  It’ll be ez good’s a theatre, to bring the boys up to see how ’twas done.  Lord!  I wish he’d hurry up!”

Grump placed a hand upon each bag, and the colonel felt for his trigger.  Grump’s left hand opened wide the mouth of Pet’s bag, and his right hand raised his own; in a moment he had poured out all his own gold into Pet’s bag, tied it, and replaced it under Pet’s head.

The colonel retired quietly for a hundred yards, or more, then he started for the saloon like a man inspired by a three-days’ thirst.  As he entered the saloon the crowd arose.

“Any feller ken say I lie,” meekly spoke the colonel, “an’ I won’t shoot, I wouldn’t believe it ef I hedn’t seen it with my own eyes.  Grump’s poured all his gold into the Pet’s pouch!”