Ralph Nixon burst into a laugh.

"I see you are very poor, uncle," he said. "It is a feast for sore eyes to see these piles of yellow darlings." And he took out a handful and eyed them lovingly.

"Let them alone! Shut the box!" cried the old man, in agitation and alarm.

"How many may I take, uncle?" asked Ralph.

"None, you thief!"

"Don't call me hard names, dear Uncle Thomas," said the young man, mockingly. "Don't forget that I am your nephew."

"I don't know whether you are or not. Shut up the box, I say."

"You are an old man. You can't live long. This money won't do you any good. You won't live to enjoy it. Give me half." And as he spoke he deposited in his pocket the handful of coins he had already taken.

This was too much for the old man. With an effort he rose to his feet and staggered to where the intruder was kneeling.

"Go away; go away at once!" he cried out, in agitation. "You are a thief. I don't believe you are a Nixon at all."

He tried to seize Ralph by the shoulder, but only fell over him.

The young man laughed, and put another handful of coins into his pocket.

"You—you scoundrel! Old as I am, I'll live to see you hanged!"

By this time the visitor had become angry. He gave the old man a push which laid him on his back, for he had little or no strength.

Thomas Nixon began to cry out, "Help! Murder! Thieves!" so that his nephew became alarmed.

"If you don't stop your yelping I'll choke you!" he exclaimed.

But the old man continued crying out.

Finally Ralph lost patience, and grasped the old man by the throat, nearly choking him.

"Will no one help me?" he cried, feebly, as soon as the grasp was somewhat relaxed.

"No; there is no one within hearing!" said Ralph. "Give me half of these gold pieces and I will go away and never trouble you again."

"No, no!" screamed the old man. "I won't give you one!"

"Then I shall have to help myself," said Ralph, coolly, and this he proceeded to do.

The old man, who was lying on his back on the floor, tried to get up, but he was too weak, and his unfeeling nephew laughed at his efforts.

"Will no one help me?" he again asked, in piteous accents.

"I guess not," said Ralph; but as he spoke the outer door opened, and Gerald Lane appeared.

Scarcely noticing who it was, but knowing that some one had entered the room, the old man again called for assistance.

Ralph Nixon was at first alarmed when he heard the door open, but on seeing Gerald his boldness returned.

"It's only a kid?" he exclaimed, contemptuously.

"What are you doing there?" demanded Gerald, with spirit.

"None of your business, boy. You'd better clear out!"

"He is robbing me!" complained the old man.

"I am his nephew. Part of the gold is mine."

"I never saw him till this morning. He is a thief! Help me if you can!"

"I'll try," said Gerald.

Looking about him for some offensive weapon he espied a broom. Seizing it, he flourished it above his head, and ordered the ruffian to put back the gold he had taken.

These words were greeted by a derisive laugh.

"I take no orders from a kid!" said the thief.

"Then take that!"

Carried away by his indignation, Gerald struck Ralph a smart blow on the head with the broom-handle. The ruffian was immediately on his feet, his face blazing with wrath.

"I'll give you a lesson!" he exclaimed, between his set teeth.

Gerald began to realize that he was in a tight place, but he was a brave boy, and he had no intention of surrendering. He dodged quickly to one side, and dealt the intruder another blow on his head. This added to his fury, and he made a mad dash after Gerald. He finally seized him by the shoulder, and, with a violent push, threw him on the floor. Of course a boy's strength was no match for that of a robust man. Struggle as he might, Gerald was overpowered. The ruffian, with a cruel gleam in his eyes, seized the boy by the throat and tried to strangle him.

Though the old man didn't know Gerald, he appreciated the fact that it was in trying to serve him that he had gotten into trouble. Had he possessed the requisite strength, or any strength at all, he would have gone to his assistance. The hardest thing was to lie helpless and see his brave young defender in danger of his life.

He did what he could. He raised his feeble voice, calling, shrilly: "Help! help!"

There seemed little chance of his cry being heard, but it is sometimes the unexpected that happens. When Gerald was very near the point of strangulation help came. The door flew open and two roughly dressed miners entered.

"What's up? What's all this?" exclaimed the two miners as they stepped into the room.

A glance about the cabin told the story.

"I declare if it isn't the chap that was down to Loche's," said one of the men.

"He's been robbing me," feebly whimpered the old man. "He's stolen my gold."

The faces of the two men became stern. In a mining settlement robbing is a capital crime, and a thief has but a short shrift and a speedy passage to another world.

When the two men entered, Ralph Nixon in alarm let go his hold on Gerald and rose to his feet. He saw that the tables were turned and that he was in danger.

"What were you doing with that boy?" demanded one of the miners.

"He struck me on the head, and I was teaching him a lesson."

"Suppose we hear what he has to say?"

Gerald, thus appealed to, answered:

"I came into the cabin five minutes ago and found him robbing the old man, and I interfered."

"So he was robbing the old man? Mr. Nixon, is this true?"

"Yes," answered Thomas Nixon, feebly. "He has some of my gold pieces in his pocket."

"Then he must unload. Seize him, Mike."

The two miners seized Ralph in a powerful grasp, and turned his pockets inside out. They discovered about fifty gold coins.

"What have you to say, you thief?" demanded one, sternly.

"He gave them to me," answered Ralph, alarmed.

"No, no; it isn't so," protested Thomas Nixon. "He took them out of yonder box. I tried to stop him, but it did no good. Then that brave boy came in and the rascal tried to murder him."

"It's a clear case, Mike. What shall we do with him?"

"We'll call a meeting of the boys, and then we'll decide."

They seized Ralph, and proceeded to drag him off between them.

"Uncle Thomas!" cried the terrified ruffian, "save me, save me!"

"Is he your nephew, Mr. Nixon?" asked one of the miners.

"I don't know. He says he is."

"Certainly I am. I am his brother's son."

"That doesn't entitle you to rob him."

"I only borrowed the gold. I meant to pay it back."

"That's a likely story. Bring him along."

They left the cabin with Ralph between them, and proceeded at once to the store kept by Joe Loche.

In five minutes their numbers were increased till the original two had swelled to twenty-five or thirty.

"What has he done?" asked one of the new members.

"Been stealing gold from old man Nixon. We caught him in the act."

"It's mighty dangerous for a thief round here, stranger," said Joe Loche. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

"He can't say anything. We found the gold in his pocket."

"Boys," said Chris Nelson, who was generally looked up to as a leader in the settlement, "you hear what is said against this man. What shall be his fate?"

"Hang him!" was the laconic response of half a dozen.

"No, no!" shrieked the affrighted wretch, "I only took the gold in joke."

"Then we'll hang you in joke."

"Oh, don't hang me! I ain't fit to die."

"I guess that's right," said Chris Nelson.

"Get a rope—a good, strong rope, and we'll hang him to yonder tree."

They began to drag him to a tree on a small knoll two hundred yards away. He shrieked and howled with fear till all were sickened with his pusillanimity. Finally, on his promise to leave the settlement and never return, they commuted his punishment to a lashing on his bare back, in which all eagerly took part. When it was over the repentant rogue crawled away, bruised and sore. Seldom has retribution been so swift.