"It's that which kept me up at the diggings," said he. "I wanted to hear all I could."
"Well?"
"There's a chap over at Scouter's Point that's come on from San Francisco to attend to some claims for Wilmurt's widow. He's sold out her right, and he's got the stuff in his pocket—a good round sum it is, too!"
"Yes," Yates said, quietly, holding his glass up to the moonlight, as if admiring the color of the liquor.
"He is coming on with his guide and servant to our diggings on some business; and there's several chaps who know him mean to take that opportunity to send away a lot of nuggets and dust."
Yates set the glass down quickly, and leaned toward his friend.
"Does he touch these?"
He made a motion as if shuffling a pack of cards; but Dickinson shook his head.
"Not a bit of use. I saw a fellow that knows him well. He's a New York lawyer that came out here on some business, and took up this affair just for the fun of the thing, and so as to have a chance to see the diggings."
"Then what's the use of talking about it," exclaimed Yates, angrily, "if he won't drink or play?"