A　Millionaire　of　Rough…and…Ready
  by　Bret　Harte
  PROLOGUE
  There　was　no　mistake　this　time：　he　had　struck　gold　at　last！
  It　had　lain　there　before　him　a　moment　agoa　misshapen　piece　of
  brown…stained　quartz；　interspersed　with　dull　yellow　metal；　yielding
  enough　to　have　allowed　the　points　of　his　pick　to　penetrate　its
  honeycombed　recesses；　yet　heavy　enough　to　drop　from　the　point　of
  his　pick　as　he　endeavored　to　lift　it　from　the　red　earth。
  He　was　seeing　all　this　plainly；　although　he　found　himself；　he　knew
  not　why；　at　some　distance　from　the　scene　of　his　discovery；　his
  heart　foolishly　beating；　his　breath　impotently　hurried。　　Yet　he　was
  walking　slowly　and　vaguely；　conscious　of　stopping　and　staring　at
  the　landscape；　which　no　longer　looked　familiar　to　him。　　He　was
  hoping　for　some　instinct　or　force　of　habit　to　recall　him　to
  himself；　yet　when　he　saw　a　neighbor　at　work　in　an　adjacent　claim；
  he　hesitated；　and　then　turned　his　back　upon　him。　　Yet　only　a　moment
  before　he　had　thought　of　running　to　him；　saying；　〃By　Jingo！　　I've
  struck　it；〃　or　〃Dn　it；　old　man；　I've　got　it〃；　but　that　moment　had
  passed；　and　now　it　seemed　to　him　that　he　could　scarce　raise　his
  voice；　or；　if　he　did；　the　ejaculation　would　appear　forced　and
  artificial。　　Neither　could　he　go　over　to　him　coolly　and　tell　his
  good　fortune；　and；　partly　from　this　strange　shyness；　and　partly
  with　a　hope　that　another　survey　of　the　treasure　might　restore　him
  to　natural　expression；　he　walked　back　to　his　tunnel。
  Yes；　it　was　there！　　No　mere　〃pocket〃　or　〃deposit；〃　but　a　part　of
  the　actual　vein　he　had　been　so　long　seeking。　　It　was　there；　sure
  enough；　lying　beside　the　pick　and　the　debris　of　the　〃face〃　of　the
  vein　that　he　had　exposed　sufficiently；　after　the　first　shock　of
  discovery；　to　assure　himself　of　the　fact　and　the　permanence　of　his
  fortune。　　It　was　there；　and　with　it　the　refutation　of　his　enemies'
  sneers；　the　corroboration　of　his　friends'　belief；　the　practical
  demonstration　of　his　own　theories；　the　reward　of　his　patient
  labors。　　It　was　there；　sure　enough。　　But；　somehow；　he　not　only
  failed　to　recall　the　first　joy　of　discovery；　but　was　conscious　of　a
  vague　sense　of　responsibility　and　unrest。　　It　was；　no　doubt；　an
  enormous　fortune　to　a　man　in　his　circumstances：　perhaps　it　meant　a
  couple　of　hundred　thousand　dollars；　or　more；　judging　from　the　value
  of　the　old　Martin　lead；　which　was　not　as　rich　as　this；　but　it
  required　to　be　worked　constantly　and　judiciously。　　It　was　with　a
  decided　sense　of　uneasiness　that　he　again　sought　the　open　sunlight
  of　the　hillside。　　His　neighbor　was　still　visible　on　the　adjacent
  claim；　but　he　had　apparently　stopped　working；　and　was
  contemplatively　smoking　a　pipe　under　a　large　pine…tree。　　For　an
  instant　he　envied　him　his　apparent　contentment。　　He　had　a　sudden
  fierce　and　inexplicable　desire　to　go　over　to　him　and　exasperate　his
  easy　poverty　by　a　revelation　of　his　own　new…found　treasure。　　But
  even　that　sensation　quickly　passed；　and　left　him　staring　blankly　at
  the　landscape　again。
  As　soon　as　he　had　made　his　discovery　known；　and　settled　its　value；
  he　would　send　for　his　wife　and　her　children　in　the　States。　　He
  would　build　a　fine　house　on　the　opposite　hillside；　if　she　would
  consent　to　it；　unless　she　preferred；　for　the　children's　sake；　to
  live　in　San　Francisco。　　A　sense　of　a　loss　of　independenceof　a
  change　of　circumstances　that　left　him　no　longer　his　own　master
  began　to　perplex　him；　in　the　midst　of　his　brightest　projects。
  Certain　other　relations　with　other　members　of　his　family；　which　had
  lapsed　by　absence　and　his　insignificance；　must　now　be　taken　up
  anew。　　He　must　do　something　for　his　sister　Jane；　for　his　brother
  William；　for　his　wife's　poor　connections。　　It　would　be　unfair　to
  him　to　say　that　he　contemplated　those　things　with　any　other
  instinct　than　that　of　generosity；　yet　he　was　conscious　of　being
  already　perplexed　and　puzzled。
  Meantime；　however；　the　neighbor　had　apparently　finished　his　pipe；
  and；　knocking　the　ashes　out　of　it；　rose　suddenly；　and　ended　any
  further　uncertainty　of　their　meeting　by　walking　over　directly
  towards　him。　　The　treasure…finder　advanced　a　few　steps　on　his　side；
  and　then　stopped　irresolutely。
  〃Hollo；　Slinn！〃　said　the　neighbor；　confidently。
  〃Hollo；　Masters；〃　responded　Slinn；　faintly。　　From　the　sound　of　the
  two　voices　a　stranger　might　have　mistaken　their　relative　condition。
  〃What　in　thunder　are　you　mooning　about　for？　　What's　up？〃　　Then；
  catching　sight　of　Slinn's　pale　and　anxious　face；　he　added　abruptly；
  〃Are　you　sick？〃
  Slinn　was　on　the　point　of　telling　him　his　good　fortune；　but
  stopped。　　The　unlucky　question　confirmed　his　consciousness　of　his
  physical　and　mental　disturbance；　and　he　dreaded　the　ready　ridicule
  of　his　companion。　　He　would　tell　him　later；　Masters　need　not　know
  WHEN　he　had　made　the　strike。　　Besides；　in　his　present　vagueness；　he
  shrank　from　the　brusque；　practical　questioning　that　would　be　sure
  to　follow　the　revelation　to　a　man　of　Masters'　temperament。
  〃I'm　a　little　giddy　here；〃　he　answered；　putting　his　hand　to　his
  head；　〃and　I　thought　I'd　knock　off　until　I　was　better。〃
  Masters　examined　him　with　two　very　critical　gray　eyes。　　〃Tell　ye
  what；　old　man！if　you　don't　quit　this　dog…goned　foolin'　of　yours
  in　that　God…forsaken　tunnel　you'll　get　loony！　　Times　you　get　so
  tangled　up　in　follerin'　that　blind　lead　o'　yours　you　ain't
  sensible！〃
  Here　was　the　opportunity　to　tell　him　all；　and　vindicate　the　justice
  of　his　theories！　　But　he　shrank　from　it　again；　and　now；　adding　to
  the　confusion；　was　a　singular　sense　of　dread　at　the　mental　labor　of
  explanation。　　He　only　smiled　painfully；　and　began　to　move　away。
  〃Look　you！〃　said　Masters；　peremptorily；　〃ye　want　about　three
  fingers　of　straight　whiskey　to　set　you　right；　and　you've　got　to
  take　it　with　me。　　Dn　it；　man；　it　may　be　the　last　drink　we　take
  together！　　Don't　look　so　skeered！　　I　meanI　made　up　my　mind　about
  ten　minutes　ago　to　cut　the　whole　dd　thing；　and　light　out　for
  fresh　diggings。　　I'm　sick　of　getting　only　grub　wages　out　o'　this
  bill。　　So　that's　what　I　mean　by　saying　it's　the　last　drink　you　and
  me'll　take　together。　　You　know　my　ways：　sayin'　and　doin'　with　me's
  the　same　thing。〃
  It　was　true。　　Slinn　had　often　envied　Masters'　promptness　of
  decision　and　resolution。　　But　he　only　looked　at　the　grim　face　of
  his　interlocutor　with　a　feeble　sense　of　relief。　　He　was　GOING。　　And
  he；　Slinn；　would　not　have　to　explain　anything！
  He　murmured　something　about　having　to　go　over　to　the　settlement　on
  business。　　He　dreaded　lest　Masters　should　insist　upon　going　into
  the　tunnel。
  〃I　suppose　you　want　to　mail　that　letter；〃　said　Masters；　drily。
  〃The　mail　don't　go　till　to…morrow；　so　you've　got　time　to　finish　it；
  and　put　it　in　an　envelope。〃
  Following　the　direction　of　Masters'　eyes；　Slinn　looked　down　and
  saw；　to　his　utter　surprise；　that　he　was　holding　an　unfinished
  pencilled　note　in　his　hand。　　How　it　came　there；　when　he　had　written
  it；　he　could　not　tell；　he　dimly　remembered　that　one　of　his　first
  impulses　was　to　write　to　his　wife；　but　that　he　had　already　done　so
  he　had　forgotten。　　He　hastily　concealed　the　note　in　his　breast…
  pocket；　with　a　vacant　smile。　　Masters　eyed　him　half　contemptuously；
  half　compassionately。
  〃Don't　forget　yourself　and　drop　it　in　some　hollow　tree　for　a
  letter…box；〃　be　said。　　〃Wellso　long！since　you　won't　drink。
  Take　care　of　yourself；〃　and；　turning　on　his　heel；　Masters　walked
  away。
  Slinn　watched　him　as　he　crossed　over　to　his　abandoned　claim；　saw
  him　gather　his　few　mining　utensils；　strap　his　blanket　over　his
  back；　lift　his　hat　on　his　long…handled　shovel　as　a　token　of
  farewell；　and　then　stride　light…heartedly　over　the　ridge。
  He　was　alone　now　with　his　secret　and　his　treasure。　　The　only　man　in
  the　world　who　knew　of　the　exact　position　of　his　tunnel　had　gone
  away　forever。　　It　was　not　likely　that　this　chance　companion　of　a
  few　weeks　would　ever　remember　him　or　the　locality　again；　he　would
  now　leave　his　treasure　alonefor　even　a　day　perhapsuntil　he　had
  thought　out　some　plan　and　sought　out　some　friend　in　whom　to
  confide。　　His　secluded　life；　the　singular　habits　of　concentration
  which　had　at　last　proved　so　successful　had；　at　the　same　time；　left
  him　few　acquaintances　and　no　associates。　　And　in　all　his　well…laid
  plans　and　patiently…digested　theories　for　finding　the　treasure；　the
  means　and　methods　of　working　it　and　disposing　of　it　had　never
  entered。
  And　now；　at　the　hour　when　he　most　needed　his　faculties；　what　was
  the　meaning　of　this　strange　benumbing　of　them！
  Patience！　　He　only　wanted　a　little　resta　little　time　to　recover
  himself。　　There　was　a　large　boulder　under　a　tree　in　the　highway　of
  the　settlementa　sheltered　spot　where　he　had　often　waited　for　the
  coming　of　the　stage…coach。　　He　would　go　there；　and　when　he　was
  sufficiently　rested　and　composed　he　would　go　on。
  Nevertheless；　on　his　way　he　diverged　and　turned　into　the　woods；　for
  no　other　apparent　purpose　than　to　find　a　hollow　tree。　　〃A　hollow
  tree。〃　　Yes！　that　was　what　Masters　had　said；　he　remembered　it
  distinctly；　and　something　was　to　be　done　there；　but　what　it　was；　or
  why　it　should　be　done；　he　could　not　tell。　　However；　it　was　done；
  and　very　luckily；　for　his　limbs　could　scarcely　support　him　further；
  and　reaching　tha