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Updated: June 22, 2025
And such an array of inky names, scrawled with obvious pains and distinctness, was on the paper that argument itself was plainly hand in hand with a noose of rope. Opposition to an army of forty wrathful and determined men would have been but suicide. Parky nodded when he read the note. He knew the game was closed.
Parky, for his part, waited in some deliberation, and then drove away with a sneer upon his lips when at last his time was growing uncomfortably short. Decency had won the moral slate of the camp was clean!
"And an ordinary chicken, with the pip thrown in, could pungle twice to my once." "Ain't got the stuff, hey?" said Parky. "Broke, I s'pose? Then maybe you'll git to work, you old galoot, and stop playin' parson and goody-goody games. You don't git nothing here without the chink. So perhaps you'll git to work at last." A red-nosed henchman of the gambler's put in a word.
True to his scheme of ensnaring the gray old miner in an idleness with regard to his mine which should soon prove a fatal mistake, Parky, the gambler, had sent a load of the choicest provisions from the store to the cabin on the hill.
The calmest man in all the hills was Jim himself. Parky made him an offer without the slightest hesitation. "I'll square off your bill at the store," he said, "and give you a hundred dollars' worth of grub for the claim and prospect just as she stands." "Not to-day," old Jim replied. "I never do no swapping at the other's feller's terms when I'm busy.
Hardly a man in the place, except Parky, the gambler, had been dressed in extravagance so imposing since the 4th of July as was early apparent in the street. Bright new shirts, red, blue, and even white, came proudly to the front. Trousers were dropped outside of boots, and the boots themselves were polished.
They had heard the gambler's order and were thoroughly astounded. No man, howsoever poor and unprepared to pay a wretched bill, had ever been treated thus in Borealis before. "What's the matter?" said Webber. "Nuthin', particularly," answered Jim, in his slow, monotonous way, "only a difference of opinion. Parky thinks he's brainy, and a gentleman that's all."
An asphalt walk led in festoons from high parky nooks that sheltered couples, down to the water-slapped edge of docks, where the tidey surf had a thick, inarticulate lisp, as if what it had to say might only be comprehended from the under side. At one of the lowermost curves of the walk, the width of a brace of railroad tracks between, a coal dock jutted out into the river.
We were sitting there smoking in front of the fire it was a shade parky for the time of year and not talking a great deal, when the Reverend said to Blake, "Things are looking up on the canal, aren't they, Tom?" "No," said Blake; "things ain't lookin' up on the canal." "Got a little house property," said the Reverend, "to spend when you feel like it?"
When Keno came back to the cabin from his work in the brush it was well along in the afternoon. Jim decided to go below and stock up the pantry with food. On arriving at the store, however, he met a new manner of reception. The gambler, Parky, was in charge, as a recent purchaser of the whole concern. "You can't git no more grub-stake here without the cash," he said to Jim.
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