him so much of that spirit of subdued bonhomie that always captivates the roughest of the rough, that they relented, took his money and put it in the “pot,” and informed him that he was one of them.  Their decision was not altogether unconnected with the fact that he had given evidence of considerable surgical skill in his treatment of Mr. Woods, more familiarly known as “Short-card William,” who had been shot a week or so previously over a game of poker by an independent bull-whacker whom he had attempted to defraud.  The sense of the community had sustained the act; and while the exhibition of his skill in dealing was universally condemned as having been indiscreet under the circumstances, still he was accounted a live man among them, and the discovery of a surgeon to dress his wound was hailed with a somewhat general feeling of relief.  Had it not been for the fact that the sobriquet of Gentleman Dick was already conferred and accepted universally as his name, he certainly would not have escaped that of “Doctor,” and as it was, Mr. Woods, who was profuse as well as profane in his gratitude, insisted upon so calling him.  A doctor, or anything bearing even a resemblance to a member of that sadly-represented profession, was regarded with a certain degree of reverence among a community whose peculiar habits often gave rise to pressing and immediate need of surgical attendance.  Consequently, Gentleman Dick rapidly attained an elevated position in their regard, and became a great favorite with Old Platte’s party, although they still looked doubtfully at his slender figure and felt “kind o’ bothered” by the air of gentility and good-breeding which hung around him in spite of the rough miner’s garments that he had chosen to assume.  By the time they left Denver for the Blue he was deemed as indispensable to the company as Old Platte himself.

* * * * *

The forest of dark pines and firs that covered both sides of the valley of the Blue grew down to the bars of the river, which along its banks was thickly grown with wild gooseberry and raspberry bushes, and piled up here and there with great tangled heaps of driftwood which the spring floods brought down and left in masses of inextricable confusion along its sides.  Back a little distance from one of these sandy flats, and nestled right in the shadow of the forest’s edge, they built a long rough cabin early in June.  In summer-time the spot was a wild and picturesque one.  Green and luxuriant vegetation made a soft and brilliant carpet at the feet of the stately old pines; huge boulder-like rocks, their edges softened and rounded in the grasp of one of Agassiz’ pre-Adamite glaciers that had ground its icy way down from the melting snow-caps above—­rocks covered with bright lichens and tufts of moss—–­ lay piled on one another at the foot of the steep mountain-side; while gnarled cedars twisted around about them, their rough red roots twining here and there in search of