He let me in--pretty reluctantly, I thought--and after the customary bacon and beans, black coffee and hot whiskey, I took a pipe.

This sorrowful man had not said three words up to this time.

Now he spoke up and said, in the voice of one who is secretly suffering, "You're the fourth--I'm going to move." "The fourth what!" said I."The fourth littery man that has been here in twenty-four hours--I'm going to move." "You don't tell me!" said I; "who were the others!" "Mr.Longfellow, Mr.Emerson and Mr.Oliver Wendell Holmes--consound the lot!" You can easily believe I was interested.

I supplicated--three hot whiskeys did the rest--and finally the melancholy miner began.

Said he-- "They came here just at dark yesterday evening, and I let them in of course.