"It was a bad day's work for you," said Peabody. "Didn't you know the penalty attached to theft in the mining-camps?"

"No," faltered Hogan, alarmed at the stem looks of his captors.

"What is it?"

"Death by hanging," was the terrible reply.

Hogan's face blanched, and he sank on his knees before them.

"Don't let me be hung!" he entreated. "You've got the nugget back.

I've done no harm. No one has lost anything by me."

"Eight of us have lost our time in pursuing you. You gave up the nugget because you were forced to. You intended to carry it away."

"Mercy! mercy! I'm a very unlucky man. I'll go away and never trouble you again."

"We don't mean that you shall," said Crane sternly. "Peabody, tie his hands; we must take him back with us."

"I won't go," said Hogan, lying down. "I am not going back to be hung."

It would obviously be impossible to carry a struggling man back fifteen miles, or more.

"We must hang you on the spot then," said Crane, producing a cord.

"Say your prayers; your fate is sealed."

"But this is murder!" faltered Hogan, with pallid lips.

"We take the responsibility."

He advanced toward Hogan, who now felt the full horrors of his situation. He sprang to his feet, rushed in frantic fear to the edge of the precipice, threw up his arms, and plunged headlong. It was done so quickly that neither of his captors was able to prevent him.

They hurried to the precipice and looked over. A hundred feet below, on a rough rock, they saw a shapeless and motionless figure, crushed out of human semblance.

"Perhaps it is as well," said Crane gravely. "He has saved us an unwelcome task."

The nugget was restored to its owners, to whom Hogan's tragical fate was told.

"Poor fellow!" said Joe soberly. "I would rather have lost the nugget."

"So would I," said Bickford. "He was a poor, shif'less critter; but I'm sorry for him."

CHAPTER XXXIX

HOW JOE'S BUSINESS PROSPERED

Joe and his friend Bickford arrived in San Francisco eight days later without having met with any other misadventure or drawback. He had been absent less than three months, yet he found changes. A considerable number of buildings had gone up in different parts of the town during his absence.

"It is a wonderful place," said Joe to his companion.

"It is going to be a great city some day."

"It's ahead of Pumpkin Holler already," said Mr. Bickford, "though the Holler has been goin' for over a hundred years."

Joe smiled at the comparison. He thought he could foresee the rapid progress of the new city, but he was far from comprehending the magnificent future that lay before it. A short time since, the writer of this story ascended to the roof of the Palace Hotel, and from this lofty elevation, a hundred and forty feet above the sidewalk, scanned with delighted eyes a handsome and substantial city, apparently the growth of a century, and including within its broad limits a population of three hundred thousand souls. It will not be many years before it reaches half-a-million, and may fairly be ranked among the great cities of the world.

Of course Joe's first visit was to his old place of business. He received a hearty greeting from Watson, his deputy.

"I am glad to see you, Joe," said he, grasping our hero's hand cordially. "When did you arrive?"

"Ten minutes ago. I have made you the first call."

"Perhaps you thought I might have 'vamosed the ranch,'" said Watson, smiling, "and left you and the business in the lurch."

"I had no fears on that score," said Joe. "Has business been good?"

"Excellent. I have paid weekly your share of the profits to Mr.

Morgan."

"Am I a millionaire yet?" asked Joe.

"Not quite. I have paid Mr. Morgan on your account"--here Watson consulted a small account-book--"nine hundred and twenty-five dollars."

"Is it possible?" said Joe, gratified. "That is splendid."

"Then you are satisfied?"

"More than satisfied."

"I am glad of it. I have made the same for myself and so have nearly half made up the sum which I so foolishly squandered at the gaming-table."

"I am glad for you, Mr. Watson."

"How have you prospered at the mines?"

"I have had excellent luck."

"I don't believe you bring home as much money as I have made for you here."

"Don't bet on that, Mr. Watson, for you would lose."

"You don't mean to say that you have made a thousand dollars?"

exclaimed Watson, surprised.

"I have made five thousand dollars within a hundred or two."

"Is it possible!" ejaculated Watson. "You beat everything for luck, Joe."