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 Yukon diggings. And then, just as Tib had arranged for several brand-new reforms, the creek leaped its banks and washed us all out. It was something the system couldn't help.

"After the flood subsided the men found the diggings had been washed out, and sorrowfully they separated for new fields, each a leaven for good wherever he should settle. Tib and I with a meager stake went back to Dawson. I say 'meager'; it was a minim. It was so slight and frail, and there were so many things we could not buy with it that we went hungry for several hours after arriving, trying to decide whether we should lavish it all on one square meal, or have it made into a scarf-pin. "Just as we had reached the zenith of our discussion, and I was urging food against Tib's artistic inclination for a specimen of the gold-worker's art, who should approach us but Slouchy Williams, most dishevelled and gaunt.

"‘Mr. Smith,' he faltered, fishing nervously in his jeans, 'here's three trading-stamps I brought away with me. You know you always said you'd honor 'em, an' I reckon if it wasn't for th' big water I'd had a bale on 'em by this time.'

"‘What will you take?' inquired Tib, absent-mindedly, reverting to his old rôle of store-keeper. 'Any demerits against Mr. Williams, Billy?'