THE GOVERNOR'S WAGER. 
ominousiy before Barton’s arrival rapidly 
disappeared, much to the disgust of Chick- 
en Bill, who confidentially informed Lef- 
ty that questions of veracity between 
“gents” should be settled on the spot, 
with 45’s. 
pMesacatdebagtonn as he pulled up a2 
chair, and addressed Jake and the New 
Yorker, “that’s just about what the Bish- 
op would do if he took a notion. If 
the old man said he jumped, and Jake 
saw him jump, why I'll bet he did.” 
“But we can’t take the Bishop’s word,” 
urged Lord. 
“That’s because you don’t know him,” 
replied the Governor, annoyed at the New 
Yorker’s persistent reflections on his 
friend’s veracity. 
“Tf the Bishop did it once he can do it 
Aenean thab Oleht tO Settle it.” 
“T’ll bet he never made that jump, and 
never will,” said Lord, his gambling blood 
apparently roused. 
Barton eyed the Wall Street man keen- 
ly for a second. 
“Take,” said he, “you saw the perform- 
ance of the Bishop?” 
“Tndeed I did. Lord tried to make me 
outa liar, but you know me.” 
“Very good,” rentied Barton, “We'll set- 
this right here. How much would you 
like to bet, Mr. Lord?” 
“T told Jake I'd bet $5,cc00.”’ 
[Ae prety stun ante, but I'll see it if you 
put up the money at once.” 
It was evident the prompt acceptance 
of the bet was unexpected, for Mr. Lord 
turned pale. 
“I rarely carry that amount with me,” 
he said, “but if you are in earnest I'll tele- 
srapl, to Wenver and have double the 
amount in the morning.” 
“Indeed,” said the Governor, who con- 
ciuded he had the Wall Street man where 
he wanted him, “I was never more ser- 
ious in my life. But it isn’t worth while 
to send for double the amount unless you 
wish to bet it. In that case you had bet- 
ter send for $10,000 and I will have that 
sum here also. I’m going to attend to 
some business now, so if you don’t care to 
take water come down to the telegraph 
office and we'll wire for the dust.” 
“Never took water in my life, Govern- 
or,’ was Lord’s response. 
There was some friendly chafing be- 
tween the 2 men as they walked to the 
telegraph office, where Barton wired his 
head man in Sun Dog as follows: 
“Come to Gypsum by first stage and 
bring $10,000 in gold. Get the boys and 
the ladies, if they want some fun. Have 
Stockdorf, the photographer, with his 
‘photo. traps. Bring the whole push, it’s 
my treat.” 
After the messages had been sent Lord 
returned to the hotel to tell the gang 
169 
what a joke they’d have on the Governor 
ii he took a bluff at this stage of the game. 
Barton at once started for the Bishop’s 
ranch, which nestled at the foot of a beau- 
tiful mountain. across the lake. As he 
rode along the trail his mind naturally 
turned toward a contemplation of the 
somewhat eccentric character he was 
about to see. For many years this old 
man had lived by the lake, his melancholy. 
clerical visage, his austere manner and 
retiring ways, as well as his universally 
recognized scholarship, securing for him 
the sobriquet by which he was altogether 
known. 
He was a mixture of cow-boy, miner 
and rancher, and the Governor had known 
him- for years as a man of his word. 
On reaching the cabin the Bishop wel- 
comed Barton cordially. 
“It’s many years since I’ve seen you, 
John. Not since we mined together in 
Stray Horse gulch. What brings you here? 
Polities, | suppose. I see by the_ papers 
you are in line for Covernor, and I’m glad 
Oi iia 
“Yes, I’m here to look up old friends 
to make new ones, and fix things general- 
ly to carry the county. But as a matter of 
fact, Bishop, my visit to you is for another | 
purpose,’ and he briefly related the story 
of the bet. 
“The chap is game?” he remarked in 
conclusion, ‘and I’m in for it. It’s a fool 
business to be sure, but it would be a 
tough joke on the next Governor of Col- 
orado to be bluffed by a gold bug from 
Wall Street. 
“Now, Bishop, I want to know if you 
have ever made this jump, and if you will 
do it again?” 
“Yes,” said the Bishop with a shake oi 
his head, “I’ve gone over the cliff sev- 
eral times and could do it again; but I 
don’t want to make a circus of myself just 
to decide a trifling bet.” 
“Trifling, did you say,” roared the Gov~ 
ernor, “Good God, man, is $10,000, 
a trifle?” 
The Bishop gave a long, low whistle. 
“No,” he laughed, “that’s no slouch of a: 
bet, even for an owner in the Jimmie.” 
“Well, Bishop, what do you say? Are 
you willing to see me through and turm 
the tables on that Nall Street dude? You 
are patriotic enough to want to keep some 
of his Eastern gold out West, aren’t you? 
I’m up to my neck in this mess; the money 
is as good as up, and I certainly can rely 
on my old partner to see me through.” | 
The Bishop studied a few moments.  ? 
“John,” he said, “you know I don’t ap- 
prove of betting, but you go to town and if 
Mr. Lord will wager $20,000 take him up. 
I give you my word of honor I will re- 
main in Gypsum unless I drop dead be- 

