prospector

The Hermit Prospector, as he laughingly called himself, was doing very well.

“Mind you make it real good,” said the Prospector, who stood, watching the operation.

The Prospector put the bag of gold on the table, and taking the photographs and map left the room.

The Prospector, who was the third player, looked up from his “hand” and drummed the table with the ends of his dirty fingers.

The landlord, who was with them, came forward, and bent over the inanimate form of the Prospector.