When their tired eyes had got accustomed to the mingled smoke and glare, the travellers could see that in the space beyond the card tables, in those back regions where the pianola reigned, there were several couples twirling about—the clumsily-dressed miners pirouetting with an astonishing lightness on their moccasined feet. And women! White women!
They stopped dancing and came forward to see the new arrivals.
The mackinaw man was congratulating the Colonel on "gettin' back to civilization."
"See that plate-glass mirror?" He pointed behind the bar, below the moose antlers. "See them ladies? You've got to a place where you can rake in the dust all day, and dance all night, and go buckin' the tiger between whiles. Great place, Minóok. Here's luck!" He took up the last of the gin slings set in a row before the party.
"Have you got some property here?" asked the Boy.
The man, without putting down his glass, simply closed one eye over the rim.
"We've heard some bad accounts of these diggin's," said the Colonel.
"I ain't sayin' there's millions for everybody. You've got to get the inside track. See that feller talkin' to the girl? Billy Nebrasky tipped him the wink in time to git the inside track, just before the Fall Stampede up the gulch."
"Which gulch?"
He only motioned with his head. "Through havin' that tip, he got there in time to stake number three Below Discovery. He's had to hang up drinks all winter, but he's a millionaire all right. He's got a hundred thousand dollars in sight, only waitin' for runnin' water to wash it out."