CHAPTER XIII
Next morning bright and early found me at the side-door, and the tall man admitted me. I slipped a ten-dollar gold piece into his palm, and presently found myself waiting at the yet unopened wicket. Outside I could see the big crowd gathering for their weary wait. I felt a sneaking sense of meanness, but I did not have long to enjoy my despicable sensations.
The recording clerk came to the wicket. He was very red-faced and watery-eyed. Involuntarily I turned my head away at the reek of his breath.
"I want to record eight below on Ophir," I said.
He looked at me curiously. He hesitated.
"What name?" he asked.
I gave it. He turned up his book.
"Eight below, you say. Why, that's already recorded."
"Can't be," I retorted. "I just got down from there yesterday after planting my stakes."
"Can't help it. It's recorded by some one else, recorded early yesterday."