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Rh stooped down and examined the object over which he had stumbled. With a puzzled air he lifted it up and brought it inside. It was, as he had said, like a bag of shot, and proved to be a shot-bag filled with gold-dust. There was blood in great blotches on the bag. We all sat up in our bunks to look at it, and the inquiry broke from each in succession as to whom it belonged.

"Well, damn you, if you all must know, it's mine!" growled out Pike at last.

"Where the mischief did you get such a bag of dust as that?" said one.

Pike, who now seemed now to be half drunk and half crazy, replied, "Well, it's none of your damned business anyhow; but if you must know, I got on a little spree down at the camp, and some of us cleaned out that Jew store."

Starting from my bunk, I exclaimed: "Boys, there has been murder here, sure as heaven. That old Jew and his son never submitted to be robbed while they had the breath of life left! Pike, you must consider yourself a prisoner."

The words were hardly out of my mouth, when Pike sprang up, and grasping me by the throat hurled me back upon the bunk with a savage imprecation, swearing that he would kill me on the instant if I did not take them back. All three of my companions were on him at once, and though he struggled like a madman, as he was, we got him down at last and tied him. Then he suddenly changed his tune, and tried to laugh it off. It was only a joke, he said, and