"Off a claim o' mine"; and he lapsed into silence.
You are always told these fellows are so anxious to rope in strangers. This man didn't seem to be. It made him very interesting. The Boy acted strictly on the woman's hint, and kept an eye on the person who had a sure thing up on Glory Hallelujah. But when the lucky man next opened his mouth it was to say:
"Why, there's Butts down from Circle City."
"Butts?" repeated the Boy, with little affectation of interest.
"Yep. Wonder what the son of a gun is after here." But he spoke genially, even with respect.
"Who's Butts?"
"Butts? Ah—well—a—Butts is the smartest fellow with his fingers in all 'laska"; and McGinty showed his big yellow teeth in an appreciative smile.
"Smart at washin' gold out?"
"Smarter at pickin' it out." The bartender joined in Si's laugh as that gentleman repeated, "Yes, sir! handiest feller with his fingers I ever seen."
"What does he do with his fingers?" asked the Boy, with impatient suspicion.