The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1904-01-10

strewn. reddish soil. with here and
there a sapIess. bIackened shrub. or
patch OF dull gray brushwood. OF the
CLEAN on the bones of a long dead
beast. or the sheen on a swollen hide
yet to be picked by yonder carrion
birds
In the bed OF the streem man had
been working since early morning, a.
squat, baldheaded little man with a
baby face. and a equity foot swathed up.
in horsecloth. Hour after hour he Ia
bored on, while the sun beat holly down
on his hatless Uranium. and the perspi-
ration streamed from his face and stood
out in beads on his flannel shirt I+s
was extremely fat. and pantingly talked
to himself as he worked, his talk con-
sisting in the constant repetition Of the
two sentences. Poor old Williel Two
to one on Unky. Go itl' and Bust my
corporation,
The stream had been damned some
yards above him, the accelerated current
had been conducted to the place where
he was working. and his labor consisted
In filing a large iron basin with red
sois dug from the banks of the stream
bed and swaying it gently to and fro
with an even rocking motion until all
continuous exertion which would have
been arduous to an acclimatized ath-
lete. which was marvellous as perform
ed by fat. equity little Unky Broncer
It was plain from his frantic exertion
that he was working against time, and
as the day wore on the intensity OF his
fatigue wrote itself ever palmer on his
guileless. anxious face. and his talk
dwindled away into the endless repeti-
ton of the one Worthwhile. Willie.
Willie
At last. when the banks Of the stream
had been punctured in hundred places
by his miniature excavations, and the
buckskin bag which hung at his wais;
was beginning TO bulge with knobs and
fragments picked eagerly from the ba-
sin. the sun sank behind the surround
ing hills nd the fever mist gathered
thick over the streamlet. Then Unky
Broncer dropped his tools. and, picking
up a gardeners line, began to measure
out square to include all his workings
Twice before this task was completed
the little man laid himself prone on
the warm red earth and painted like a
distressed hound while the bandaged
foot was held beneath the falling
stream. Once. in sheer WEAKNESS. he top
pied weakly into one OF the pits which
he had dug. and 1oundered there for
a while like a crab on its back But
| the square was duly measured and its
corners marked by heaps OF stones. and
having picked up the line. Unky Bron-
Ger limped YEARLY to the tent.
On a cot inside the tent a man was
lying muttering TO himself and cease
lessly chewing the blanket which par
TALLY covered him. Up to the cot the
laborer STROBE, and. taking the suffer
er's burning hand, cried exultingly
Willie, my boy. old Unky's done itr'
but. gaining no answer. he stopped low
/ ana Whispered fearfullys
Home. Willie, home at last, My God
Willie! listen. it's only Unky'
Home. home. Never again; never
again, It's gold. Gold! tell you, Let
me go. Unky, Unky!'
| Passing a hand across his forehead
Unky Broncer left the dusk enshroudeC
bed, and, having lit a stable lamp. re
turned again to gaze long and earnestly
on the sick mans face with unspeakabl,
dread in his own. Then, putting dowr
the lantern. he filled a capsule witt
quinine, and tenderly raising the lollinl
bald head. said: is the pain very bad
| Here. take this That's right Can YOU
eat some beans? It's only Unky."
But the sick man, feebly shaking hi;
head, dropped to the pillow again. anC