"Well, you are a h--ll of a fellow, ain't you ?" Spencer Tucker passed his hand through his hair and lifted it from his forehead, with a gesture at once emotional and theatrical.

"I am a man with a price on me!" he said bitterly.

"Give me up to the sheriff, and you'll get five thousand dollars.

Help me, and you'll get nothing.
That's my d--d luck, and yours too, I suppose." "I reckon you're right there," said Patterson gloomily.

"But I thought you got clean away,--went off in a ship"-- "Went off in a boat to a ship," interrupted Tucker savagely; "went off to a ship that had all my things on board--everything.