"And have you been successful THIS TIME?" asked Marie.

"I got the color."

"Eh?"

Uncle Sylvester rose and placed himself with his back to the fire,
gently surveying the assembled group.

"I was interrupted in a story of gold-digging last evening," he said
blandly. "How far had I got?"

"You were down on the San Joaquin River in the spring of '50, with a
chap named Flint," chorused Cousins Jane and Emma promptly.

"Ah! yes," said Uncle Sylvester. "Well, in those days there was a
scarcity of money in the diggings. Gold dust there was in plenty, but no
COIN. You can fancy it was a bother to weigh out a pinch of dust every
time you wanted a drink of whiskey or a pound of flour; but there was
no other legal tender. Pretty soon, however, a lot of gold and silver
pieces found their way into circulation in our camp and the camps around
us. They were foreign--old French and English coins. Here's one of
them that I kept." He took from his pocket a gold coin and handed it to
Gabriel.

Lane rose to his feet with an exclamation:

"Why, this is like the louis-d'or that grandfather saved through the war
and gave to father."