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262 Descending into the cañon, he came upon another claim-stake, and repeated the performance of putting up an extension-notice. Fortune had favored him at last! Two extensions located within an hour—he was a millionaire already, in prospect, at least, when he returned to camp. That night he hardly slept at all. His heart beat high with hope—visions of untold wealth floated unceasingly before his half-closed eyes. Next morning he was up betimes, and invited his companions in the camp to go up with him before breakfast and take a look at his locations. They went up the cañon and found that the last extension located was the result of an error. All sorts of locations besides mining-claims were being made—town sites, mill sites, etc., etc.; the last claim on which he had taken up an extension was for a slaughter-yard. The discovery lowered his spirits a peg, but he was still hopeful, and went on with the party up to the mesa to examine the first location.

When they arrived at the stake, and Bill bent down to read the notice, his face turned pale and he started back frightened, as did Robinson Crusoe when he saw the footprint of the cannibal on the island of Juan Fernandez. As I am a man and a Christian, he had located and agreed to work an extension on a claim for a graveyard.

The joke got back to camp ahead of him, and Bill shot out of the place an hour later, like a second Mazeppa, followed by a