Forks.
Six-foot Sandy was an authority at The Forks. A brawny and reckless miner a sort of cross between a first-class miner and a second-class gambler ; a man who vibrated between his claim up the creek and the Howlin Wilderness saloon. But he was a shrewd, brave man, of the half-horse, half-alligator kind, and was both feared and respected. After that the beaver hat was safe at The Forks, and a fixture.
To illustrate the power and dignity of the beaver hat even here, where reverence and respect for any thing that smells of civilization is not to be thought of, I may mention that a month or two after the event described above, another beaver hat put in an appearance at The Forks. There was not even a protest. The man had sense enough to keep silent, took a quiet game of u draw " with the boys at the Howlin Wilderness, and won at once the title of Judge.
After dark the quiet game went on in the corner, and Sandy came down from the claim.
" Who s that?" said Sandy to the bar-keeper, as he threw his left thumb over his shoulder, and with his right hand lifted his gin and peppermint.
u That? why that s Judge Judge why, the new Judge."
u Judge hell!" said Sandy, wiping his beard and looking sharply under the hat rim. " I know him, I do. He s a waiter over in a Yreka restaurant. I ll go for him, I will. He is a fraud on the
