See Yup by Bret Harte
I don't suppose that his progenitors ever gave him that name, or, indeed,
that it was a NAME at all; but it was currently believed that—as
pronounced "See UP"—it meant that lifting of the outer angle of the
eye common to the Mongolian. On the other hand, I had been told that there
was an old Chinese custom of affixing some motto or legend, or even a
sentence from Confucius, as a sign above their shops, and that two or more
words, which might be merely equivalent to "Virtue is its own reward," or
"Riches are deceitful," were believed by the simple Californian miner to
be the name of the occupant himself. Howbeit, "See Yup" accepted it with
the smiling patience of his race, and never went by any other. If one of
the tunnelmen always addressed him as "Brigadier-General," "Judge," or
"Commodore," it was understood to be only the American fondness for ironic
title, and was never used except in personal conversation. In appearance
he looked like any other Chinaman, wore the ordinary blue cotton blouse
and white drawers of the Sampan coolie, and, in spite of the apparent
cleanliness and freshness of these garments, always exhaled that singular
medicated odor—half opium, half ginger—which we recognized as
the common "Chinese smell."
Our first interview was characteristic of his patient quality. He had done
my washing for several months, but I had never yet seen him. A meeting at
last had become necessary to correct his impressions regarding "buttons"—which
he had seemed to consider as mere excrescences, to be removed like
superfluous dirt from soiled linen. I had expected him to call at my
lodgings, but he had not yet made his appearance. One day, during the
noontide recess of the little frontier school over which I presided, I
returned rather early. Two or three of the smaller boys, who were
loitering about the school-yard, disappeared with a certain guilty
precipitation that I suspected for the moment, but which I presently
dismissed from my mind. I passed through the empty school-room to my desk,
sat down, and began to prepare the coming lessons. Presently I heard a
faint sigh. Looking up, to my intense concern, I discovered a solitary
Chinaman whom I had overlooked, sitting in a rigid attitude on a bench
with his back to the window. He caught my eye and smiled sadly, but
"What are you doing here?" I asked sternly.
"Me washee shilts; me talkee 'buttons.'"
"Oh! you're See Yup, are you?"
"Allee same, John."
"Well, come here."
I continued my work, but he did not move.
"Come here, hang it! Don't you understand?"
"Me shabbee, 'comme yea.' But me no shabbee Mellican boy, who catchee me,
allee same. YOU 'comme yea'—YOU shabbee?"
Indignant, but believing that the unfortunate man was still in fear of
persecution from the mischievous urchins whom I had evidently just
interrupted, I put down my pen and went over to him. Here I discovered, to
my surprise and mortification, that his long pigtail was held hard and
fast by the closed window behind him which the young rascals had shut down
upon it, after having first noiselessly fished it outside with a hook and
line. I apologized, opened the window, and released him. He did not
complain, although he must have been fixed in that uncomfortable position
for some minutes, but plunged at once into the business that brought him
"But WHY didn't you come to my lodgings?" I asked.
He smiled sadly but intelligently.
"Mishtel Bally [Mr. Barry, my landlord] he owce me five dollee fo washee,
washee. He no payee me. He say he knock hellee outee me allee time I come
for payee. So me no come HOUSEE, me come SCHOOLEE, Shabbee? Mellican boy
no good, but not so big as Mellican man. No can hurtee Chinaman so much.
Alas! I knew that this was mainly true. Mr. James Barry was an Irishman,
whose finer religious feelings revolted against paying money to a heathen.
I could not find it in my heart to say anything to See Yup about the
buttons; indeed, I spoke in complimentary terms about the gloss of my
shirts, and I think I meekly begged him to come again for my washing. When
I went home I expostulated with Mr. Barry, but succeeded only in
extracting from him the conviction that I was one of "thim black
Republican fellys that worshiped naygurs." I had simply made an enemy of
him. But I did not know that, at the same time, I had made a friend of See
I became aware of this a few days later, by the appearance on my desk of a
small pot containing a specimen of camellia japonica in flower. I knew the
school-children were in the habit of making presents to me in this furtive
fashion,—leaving their own nosegays of wild flowers, or perhaps a
cluster of roses from their parents' gardens,—but I also knew that
this exotic was too rare to come from them. I remembered that See Yup had
a Chinese taste for gardening, and a friend, another Chinaman, who kept a
large nursery in the adjoining town. But my doubts were set at rest by the
discovery of a small roll of red rice-paper containing my washing-bill,
fastened to the camellia stalk. It was plain that this mingling of
business and delicate gratitude was clearly See Yup's own idea. As the
finest flower was the topmost one, I plucked it for wearing, when I found,
to my astonishment, that it was simply wired to the stalk. This led me to
look at the others, which I found also wired! More than that, they seemed
to be an inferior flower, and exhaled that cold, earthy odor peculiar to
the camellia, even, as I thought, to an excess. A closer examination
resulted in the discovery that, with the exception of the first flower I
had plucked, they were one and all ingeniously constructed of thin slices
of potato, marvelously cut to imitate the vegetable waxiness and formality
of the real flower. The work showed an infinite and almost pathetic
patience in detail, yet strangely incommensurate with the result,
admirable as it was. Nevertheless, this was also like See Yup. But whether
he had tried to deceive me, or whether he only wished me to admire his
skill, I could not say. And as his persecution by my scholars had left a
balance of consideration in his favor, I sent him a warm note of thanks,
and said nothing of my discovery.
As our acquaintance progressed, I became frequently the recipient of other
small presents from him: a pot of preserves of a quality I could not
purchase in shops, and whose contents in their crafty, gingery
dissimulation so defied definition that I never knew whether they were
animal, vegetable, or mineral; two or three hideous Chinese idols, "for
luckee," and a diabolical fire-work with an irregular spasmodic activity
that would sometimes be prolonged until the next morning. In return, I
gave him some apparently hopeless oral lessons in English, and certain
sentences to be copied, which he did with marvelous precision. I remember
one instance when this peculiar faculty of imitation was disastrous in
result. In setting him a copy, I had blurred a word which I promptly
erased, and then traced the letters more distinctly over the scratched
surface. To my surprise, See Yup triumphantly produced HIS copy with the
erasion itself carefully imitated, and, in fact, much more neatly done
In our confidential intercourse, I never seemed to really get nearer to
him. His sympathy and simplicity appeared like his flowers—to be a
good-humored imitation of my own. I am satisfied that his particularly
soulless laugh was not derived from any amusement he actually felt, yet I
could not say it was forced. In his accurate imitations, I fancied he was
only trying to evade any responsibility of his own. THAT devolved upon his
taskmaster! In the attention he displayed when new ideas were presented to
him, there was a slight condescension, as if he were looking down upon
them from his three thousand years of history.
"Don't you think the electric telegraph wonderful?" I asked one day.
"Very good for Mellican man," he said, with his aimless laugh; "plenty
makee him jump!"
I never could tell whether he had confounded it with electro-galvanism, or
was only satirizing our American haste and feverishness. He was capable of
either. For that matter, we knew that the Chinese themselves possessed
some means of secretly and quickly communicating with one another. Any
news of good or ill import to their race was quickly disseminated through
the settlement before WE knew anything about it. An innocent basket of
clothes from the wash, sent up from the river-bank, became in some way a
library of information; a single slip of rice-paper, aimlessly fluttering
in the dust of the road, had the mysterious effect of diverging a whole
gang of coolie tramps away from our settlement.
When See Yup was not subject to the persecutions of the more ignorant and
brutal he was always a source of amusement to all, and I cannot recall an
instance when he was ever taken seriously. The miners found diversions
even in his alleged frauds and trickeries, whether innocent or
retaliatory, and were fond of relating with great gusto his evasion of the
Foreign Miners' Tax. This was an oppressive measure aimed principally at
the Chinese, who humbly worked the worn-out "tailings" of their Christian
fellow miners. It was stated that See Yup, knowing the difficulty—already
alluded to—of identifying any particular Chinaman by NAME, conceived
the additional idea of confusing recognition by intensifying the
monotonous facial expression. Having paid his tax himself to the
collector, he at once passed the receipt to his fellows, so that the
collector found himself confronted in different parts of the settlement
with the receipt and the aimless laugh of, apparently, See Yup himself.
Although we all knew that there were a dozen Chinamen or more at work at
the mines, the collector never was able to collect the tax from more than
TWO,—See Yup and one See Yin,—and so great was THEIR facial
resemblance that the unfortunate official for a long time hugged himself
with the conviction that he had made See Yup PAY TWICE, and withheld the
money from the government! It is very probable that the Californian's
recognition of the sanctity of a joke, and his belief that "cheating the
government was only cheating himself," largely accounted for the
sympathies of the rest of the miners.
But these sympathies were not always unanimous.
One evening I strolled into the bar-room of the principal saloon, which,
so far as mere upholstery and comfort went, was also the principal house
in the settlement. The first rains had commenced; the windows were open,
for the influence of the southwest trades penetrated even this far-off
mountain mining settlement, but, oddly enough, there was a fire in the
large central stove, around which the miners had collected, with their
steaming boots elevated on a projecting iron railing that encircled it.
They were not attracted by the warmth, but the stove formed a social pivot
for gossip, and suggested that mystic circle dear to the gregarious
instinct. Yet they were decidedly a despondent group. For some moments the
silence was only broken by a gasp, a sigh, a muttered oath, or an
impatient change of position. There was nothing in the fortunes of the
settlement, nor in their own individual affairs to suggest this gloom. The
singular truth was that they were, one and all, suffering from the pangs
Incongruous as such a complaint might seem to their healthy environment,—their
outdoor life, their daily exercise, the healing balsam of the mountain
air, their enforced temperance in diet, and the absence of all enervating
pleasures,—it was nevertheless the incontestable fact. Whether it
was the result of the nervous, excitable temperament which had brought
them together in this feverish hunt for gold; whether it was the quality
of the tinned meats or half-cooked provisions they hastily bolted,
begrudging the time it took to prepare and to consume them; whether they
too often supplanted their meals by tobacco or whiskey, the singular
physiological truth remained that these young, finely selected
adventurers, living the lives of the natural, aboriginal man, and looking
the picture of health and strength, actually suffered more from
indigestion than the pampered dwellers of the cities. The quantity of
"patent medicines," "bitters," "pills," "panaceas," and "lozenges" sold in
the settlement almost exceeded the amount of the regular provisions whose
effects they were supposed to correct. The sufferers eagerly scanned
advertisements and placards. There were occasional "runs" on new
"specifics," and general conversation eventually turned into a discussion
of their respective merits. A certain childlike faith and trust in each
new remedy was not the least distressing and pathetic of the symptoms of
these grown-up, bearded men.
"Well, gentlemen," said Cyrus Parker, glancing around at his fellow
sufferers, "ye kin talk of your patent medicines, and I've tackled 'em
all, but only the other day I struck suthin' that I'm goin' to hang on to,
Every eye was turned moodily to the speaker, but no one said anything.
"And I didn't get it outer advertisements, nor off of circulars. I got it
outer my head, just by solid thinking," continued Parker.
"What was it, Cy?" said one unsophisticated and inexperienced sufferer.
Instead of replying, Parker, like a true artist, knowing he had the ear of
his audience, dramatically flashed a question upon them.
"Did you ever hear of a Chinaman having dyspepsy?"
"Never heard he had sabe enough to hev ANYTHING," said a scorner.
"No, but DID ye?" insisted Parker.
"Well, no!" chorused the group. They were evidently struck with the fact.
"Of course you didn't," said Parker triumphantly. "'Cos they AIN'T. Well,
gentlemen, it didn't seem to me the square thing that a pesky lot o'
yellow-skinned heathens should be built different to a white man, and
never know the tortur' that a Christian feels; and one day, arter dinner,
when I was just a-lyin' flat down on the bank, squirmin', and clutching
the short grass to keep from yellin', who should go by but that pizened
See Yup, with a grin on his face.
"'Mellican man plenty playee to him Joss after eatin',' sez he; 'but
Chinaman smellee punk, allee same, and no hab got.'
"I knew the slimy cuss was just purtendin' he thought I was prayin' to my
Joss, but I was that weak I hadn't stren'th, boys, to heave a rock at him.
Yet it gave me an idea."
"What was it?" they asked eagerly.
"I went down to his shop the next day, when he was alone, and I was
feeling mighty bad, and I got hold of his pigtail and I allowed I'd stuff
it down his throat if he didn't tell me what he meant. Then he took a
piece of punk and lit it, and put it under my nose, and, darn my skin,
gentlemen, you migh'n't believe me, but in a minute I felt better, and
after a whiff or two I was all right."
"Was it pow'ful strong, Cy?" asked the inexperienced one.
"No," said Parker, "and that's just what's got me. It was a sort o'
dreamy, spicy smell, like a hot night. But as I couldn't go 'round 'mong
you boys with a lighted piece o' punk in my hand, ez if I was settin' off
Fourth of July firecrackers, I asked him if he couldn't fix me up suthin'
in another shape that would be handier to use when I was took bad, and I'd
reckon to pay him for it like ez I'd pay for any other patent medicine. So
he fixed me up this."
He put his hand in his pocket, and drew out a small red paper which, when
opened, disclosed a pink powder. It was gravely passed around the group.
"Why, it smells and tastes like ginger," said one.
"It is only ginger!" said another scornfully.
"Mebbe it is, and mebbe it isn't," returned Cy Parker stoutly. "Mebbe ut's
only my fancy. But if it's the sort o' stuff to bring on that fancy, and
that fancy CURES me, it's all the same. I've got about two dollars' worth
o' that fancy or that ginger, and I'm going to stick to it. You hear me!"
And he carefully put it back in his pocket.
At which criticisms and gibes broke forth. If he (Cy Parker), a white man,
was going to "demean himself" by consulting a Chinese quack, he'd better
buy up a lot o' idols and stand 'em up around his cabin. If he had that
sort o' confidences with See Yup, he ought to go to work with him on his
cheap tailings, and be fumigated all at the same time. If he'd been
smoking an opium pipe, instead of smelling punk, he ought to be man enough
to confess it. Yet it was noticeable that they were all very anxious to
examine the packet again, but Cy Parker was alike indifferent to demand or
A few days later I saw Abe Wynford, one of the party, coming out of See
Yup's wash-house. He muttered something in passing about the infamous
delay in sending home his washing, but did not linger long in
conversation. The next day I met another miner AT the wash-house, but HE
lingered so long on some trifling details that I finally left him there
alone with See Yup. When I called upon Poker Jack of Shasta, there was a
singular smell of incense in HIS cabin, which he attributed to the very
resinous quality of the fir logs he was burning. I did not attempt to
probe these mysteries by any direct appeal to See Yup himself: I respected
his reticence; indeed, if I had not, I was quite satisfied that he would
have lied to me. Enough that his wash-house was well patronized, and he
was decidedly "getting on."
It might have been a month afterwards that Dr. Duchesne was setting a
broken bone in the settlement, and after the operation was over, had
strolled into the Palmetto Saloon. He was an old army surgeon, much
respected and loved in the district, although perhaps a little feared for
the honest roughness and military precision of his speech. After he had
exchanged salutations with the miners in his usual hearty fashion, and
accepted their invitation to drink, Cy Parker, with a certain affected
carelessness which did not, however, conceal a singular hesitation in his
"I've been wantin' to ask ye a question, Doc,—a sort o' darned fool
question, ye know,—nothing in the way of consultation, don't you
see, though it's kin er in the way o' your purfeshun. Sabe?"
"Go on, Cy," said the doctor good-humoredly, "this is my dispensary hour."
"Oh! it ain't anything about symptoms, Doc, and there ain't anything the
matter with me. It's only just to ask ye if ye happened to know anything
about the medical practice of these yer Chinamen?"
"I don't know," said the doctor bluntly, "and I don't know ANYBODY who
There was a sudden silence in the bar, and the doctor, putting down his
glass, continued with slight professional precision:—
"You see, the Chinese know nothing of anatomy from personal observation.
Autopsies and dissection are against their superstitions, which declare
the human body sacred, and are consequently never practiced."
There was a slight movement of inquiring interest among the party, and Cy
Parker, after a meaning glance at the others, went on half aggressively,
"In course, they ain't surgeons like you, Doc, but that don't keep them
from having their own little medicines, just as dogs eat grass, you know.
Now I want to put it to you, as a fa'r-minded man, if you mean ter say
that, jest because those old women who sarve out yarbs and spring
medicines in families don't know anything of anatomy, they ain't fit to
give us their simple and nat'ral medicines?"
"But the Chinese medicines are not simple or natural," said the doctor
"Not simple?" echoed the party, closing round him.
"I don't mean to say," continued the doctor, glancing around at their
eager, excited faces with an appearance of wonder, "that they are
positively noxious, unless taken in large quantities, for they are not
drugs at all, but I certainly should not call them 'simple.' Do YOU know
what they principally are?"
"Well, no," said Parker cautiously, "perhaps not EXACTLY."
"Come a little closer, and I'll tell you."
Not only Parker's head but the others were bent over the counter. Dr.
Duchesne uttered a few words in a tone inaudible to the rest of the
company. There was a profound silence, broken at last by Abe Wynford's
"Ye kin pour me out about three fingers o' whiskey, Barkeep. I'll take it
"Same to me," said the others.
The men gulped down their liquor; two of them quietly passed out. The
doctor wiped his lips, buttoned his coat, and began to draw on his
"I've heerd," said Poker Jack of Shasta, with a faint smile on his white
face, as he toyed with the last drops of liquor in his glass, "that the
darned fools sometimes smell punk as a medicine, eh?"
"Yes, THAT'S comparatively decent," said the doctor reflectively. "It's
only sawdust mixed with a little gum and formic acid."
"Formic acid? Wot's that?"
"A very peculiar acid secreted by ants. It is supposed to be used by them
offensively in warfare—just as the skunk, eh?"
But Poker Jack of Shasta had hurriedly declared that he wanted to speak to
a man who was passing, and had disappeared. The doctor walked to the door,
mounted his horse, and rode away. I noticed, however, that there was a
slight smile on his bronzed, impassive face. This led me to wonder if he
was entirely ignorant of the purpose for which he had been questioned, and
the effect of his information. I was confirmed in the belief by the
remarkable circumstances that nothing more was said of it; the incident
seemed to have terminated there, and the victims made no attempt to
revenge themselves on See Yup. That they had one and all, secretly and
unknown to one another, patronized him, there was no doubt; but, at the
same time, as they evidently were not sure that Dr. Duchesne had not
hoaxed them in regard to the quality of See Yup's medicines, they knew
that an attack on the unfortunate Chinaman would in either case reveal
their secret and expose them to the ridicule of their brother miners. So
the matter dropped, and See Yup remained master of the situation.
Meantime he was prospering. The coolie gang he worked on the river, when
not engaged in washing clothes, were "picking over" the "tailings," or
refuse of gravel, left on abandoned claims by successful miners. As there
was no more expense attending this than in stone-breaking or rag-picking,
and the feeding of the coolies, which was ridiculously cheap, there was no
doubt that See Yup was reaping a fair weekly return from it; but, as he
sent his receipts to San Francisco through coolie managers, after the
Chinese custom, and did not use the regular Express Company, there was no
way of ascertaining the amount. Again, neither See Yup nor his fellow
countrymen ever appeared to have any money about them. In ruder times and
more reckless camps, raids were often made by ruffians on their cabins or
their traveling gangs, but never with any pecuniary result. This
condition, however, it seemed was destined to change.
One Saturday See Yup walked into Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express office
with a package of gold-dust, which, when duly weighed, was valued at five
hundred dollars. It was consigned to a Chinese company in San Francisco.
When the clerk handed See Yup a receipt, he remarked casually:—
"Washing seems to pay, See Yup."
"Washee velly good pay. You wantee washee, John?" said See Yup eagerly.
"No, no," said the clerk, with a laugh. "I was only thinking five hundred
dollars would represent the washing of a good many shirts."
"No leplesent washee shirts at all! Catchee gold-dust when washee
The clerk DID "shabbee," and lifted his eyebrows. The next Saturday See
Yup appeared with another package, worth about four hundred dollars,
directed to the same consignee.
"Didn't pan out quite so rich this week, eh?" said the clerk engagingly.
"No," returned See Yup impassively; "next time he payee more."
When the third Saturday came, with the appearance of See Yup and four
hundred and fifty dollars' worth of gold-dust, the clerk felt he was no
longer bound to keep the secret. He communicated it to others, and in
twenty-four hours the whole settlement knew that See Yup's coolie company
were taking out an average of four hundred dollars per week from the
refuse and tailings of the old abandoned Palmetto claim!
The astonishment of the settlement was profound. In earlier days jealousy
and indignation at the success of these degraded heathens might have taken
a more active and aggressive shape, and it would have fared ill with See
Yup and his companions. But the settlement had become more prosperous and
law-abiding; there were one or two Eastern families and some foreign
capital already there, and its jealousy and indignation were restricted to
severe investigation and legal criticism. Fortunately for See Yup, it was
an old-established mining law that an abandoned claim and its tailings
became the property of whoever chose to work it. But it was alleged that
See Yup's company had in reality "struck a lead,"—discovered a
hitherto unknown vein or original deposit of gold, not worked by the
previous company, and having failed legally to declare it by preemption
and public registry, in their foolish desire for secrecy, had thus
forfeited their right to the property. A surveillance of their working,
however, did not establish this theory; the gold that See Yup had sent
away was of the kind that might have been found in the tailings overlooked
by the late Palmetto owners. Yet it was a very large yield for mere
"Them Palmetto boys were mighty keerless after they'd made their big
'strike' and got to work on the vein, and I reckon they threw a lot of
gold away," said Cy Parker, who remembered their large-handed recklessness
in the "flush days." "On'y that WE didn't think it was white man's work to
rake over another man's leavin's, we might hev had what them derned
Chinamen hev dropped into. Tell ye what, boys, we've been a little too
'high and mighty,' and we'll hev to climb down."
At last the excitement reached its climax, and diplomacy was employed to
effect what neither intimidation nor espionage could secure. Under the
pretense of desiring to buy out See Yup's company, a select committee of
the miners was permitted to examine the property and its workings. They
found the great bank of stones and gravel, representing the cast-out
debris of the old claim, occupied by See Yup and four or five plodding
automatic coolies. At the end of two hours the committee returned to the
saloon bursting with excitement. They spoke under their breath, but enough
was gathered to satisfy the curious crowd that See Yup's pile of tailings
was rich beyond their expectations. The committee had seen with their own
eyes gold taken out of the sand and gravel to the amount of twenty dollars
in the two short hours of their examination. And the work had been
performed in the stupidest, clumsiest, yet PATIENT Chinese way. What might
not white men do with better appointed machinery! A syndicate was at once
formed. See Yup was offered twenty thousand dollars if he would sell out
and put the syndicate in possession of the claim in twenty-four hours. The
Chinaman received the offer stolidly. As he seemed inclined to hesitate, I
am grieved to say that it was intimated to him that if he declined he
might be subject to embarrassing and expensive legal proceedings to prove
his property, and that companies would be formed to "prospect" the ground
on either side of his heap of tailings. See Yup at last consented, with
the proviso that the money should be paid in gold into the hands of a
Chinese agent in San Francisco on the day of the delivery of the claim.
The syndicate made no opposition to this characteristic precaution of the
Chinaman. It was like them not to travel with money, and the implied
uncomplimentary suspicion of danger from the community was overlooked. See
Yup departed the day that the syndicate took possession. He came to see me
before he went. I congratulated him upon his good fortune; at the same
time, I was embarrassed by the conviction that he was unfairly forced into
a sale of his property at a figure far below its real value.
I think differently now.
At the end of the week it was said that the new company cleared up about
three hundred dollars. This was not so much as the community had expected,
but the syndicate was apparently satisfied, and the new machinery was put
up. At the end of the next week the syndicate were silent as to their
returns. One of them made a hurried visit to San Francisco. It was said
that he was unable to see either See Yup or the agent to whom the money
was paid. It was also noticed that there was no Chinaman remaining in the
settlement. Then the fatal secret was out.
The heap of tailings had probably never yielded the See Yup company more
than twenty dollars a week, the ordinary wage of such a company. See Yup
had conceived the brilliant idea of "booming" it on a borrowed capital of
five hundred dollars in gold-dust, which he OPENLY transmitted by express
to his confederate and creditor in San Francisco, who in turn SECRETLY
sent it back to See Yup by coolie messengers, to be again openly
transmitted to San Francisco. The package of gold-dust was thus passed
backwards and forwards between debtor and creditor, to the grave
edification of the Express Company and the fatal curiosity of the
settlement. When the syndicate had gorged the bait thus thrown out, See
Yup, on the day the self-invited committee inspected the claim, promptly
"salted" the tailings by CONSCIENTIOUSLY DISTRIBUTING THE GOLD-DUST OVER
IT so deftly that it appeared to be its natural composition and yield.
I have only to bid farewell to See Yup, and close this reminiscence of a
misunderstood man, by adding the opinion of an eminent jurist in San
Francisco, to whom the facts were submitted: "So clever was this alleged
fraud, that it is extremely doubtful if an action would lie against See
Yup in the premises, there being no legal evidence of the 'salting,' and
none whatever of his actual allegation that the gold-dust was the ORDINARY
yield of the tailings, that implication resting entirely with the
committee who examined it under false pretense, and who subsequently
forced the sale by intimidation."