"Where did you leave Goldollar?"
"At Fort Yukon."
"Was he in good health when you last saw him?"
"I refuse to answer any more questions," replied the prisoner, realizing how deeply he was committing himself.
"Very well," said the Judge. "I think you have already told enough to give us a pretty fair idea of the particular kind of a scoundrel you are. So, if you have nothing more to say, I declare this case closed and in the hands of the jury. Gentlemen, the court awaits your verdict."
As there was no room to which the jury could retire they put their heads together and consulted in whispers, during which time Phil told the Judge what he knew about the fur-seal's tooth, together with the legend of good and bad luck supposed to accompany its possession. The spectators of the trial buzzed like a swarm of angry hornets.
In a few minutes the jury ended their conference and resumed their places. Then, as order was restored, the foreman, standing up, announced that they were unanimous in finding the prisoner guilty on all three of the charges preferred against him, and recommended that he be so punished as to afford a warning to others of his kind who might be contemplating a visit to the Yukon diggings.
"Hang him!" cried some one in the crowd.
"Shoot him!" shouted another.
"Drive him out of camp, and set him adrift like he done to Jalap Coombs," suggested a third.