Theclatter of a frying pan against the cook stove; the swish of canvas on canvas as tent flaps were rolled back; the bubbling of coffee; the good-natured cries of men keen for the coming day’s labor—this was morning at Nugget Camp.
As Teddy and Roy tumbled from their blankets, the crisp air quickened their motions, and within five minutes of getting up they were splashing water over their faces and necks—cold, breath-taking water, from tin basins. Then a satisfying breakfast of bacon, flapjacks, coffee, eggs and corn bread. The corn bread they got from Gus Tripp, and cooked the rest themselves.
There is a feeling of great, unreasonable joy that comes to those who, in a high altitude, arise early in the brisk weather of late August, to watch the sun toss its beams over the tops of the mountains and breathe in deeply of the tingling air. The world is changed. Sights and sounds assume a new significance, a deepermeaning. A man will clap his partner heavily on the back or yell suddenly in his ear or shoulder him off the trail—all for no reason at all.
And breakfast, eaten beneath the light blue of the early morning sky—breakfast, with fragrant, crisp bacon, the smell of wood burning in the stove or fireplace, the aroma of coffee—
“A breakfast,” Nick said, reaching for the last slab of corn bread, “than which there is no whicher. Boys, you see what’s under my feet?”
The other stared down. Nick had his feet on a little mound of earth.
“That,” the puncher went on, “is the world. Me, I’m sittin’ on top of it. Savvy? Yay, boy, what a meal!”
“Like it?” Silent asked. Since he seemed to be an expert in the culinary art, he was unanimously elected cook.
“I’ll tell a maverick!” Roy declared fervently. “Best I ever had. Makes you feel all pepped up, ready to carry loads and loads of gold without feeling the weight.”
“Uh-huh,” Teddy remarked dryly. “Without feeling theweight—you got that part of it right, anyhow.”
The dishes were cleaned, cots made up, and the tents put in order. When, finally, the horses were saddled and all was ready for the start,Gus decided suddenly to take along a rifle and a box of cartridges.
“You never can tell,” he remarked in explanation. “Me, I’m a great believer in proverbs.”
Nugget Camp was cupped in a sort of bowl among the mountains. Two large streams and one small one watered the district, and a large amount of timber grew near by, which in itself was an unusual occurrence. Seldom are gold and timber found allied.
Gus’s claim was but a short ride from the tents, and as he trotted along, ahead of the boys, he waved to several of his newly made friends.
“There’s a bird you ought to know!” he exclaimed suddenly, pointing. “See if he remembers you. Hey, Maryland!”
“Howdy, Gus! How they comin’?” Maryland looked straight at Roy and Teddy with no sign of recognition.
“Forgot you completely,” Gus chuckled. “It’s easy to figger how he was feelin’ last night. Don’t hold it against him, boys. When he’s sober he’s O.K. Trouble with Maryland is, he can’t control his thirst.”
“Just what I said,” Teddy asserted. “Or Roy said it, or somebody.”
“Sure, we’ll forget it ever happened,” said Roy. “We knew he was pretty well under theweather. Say, Gus, where is that claim of yours?”
“There she is,” Gus answered proudly, pointing. “See her?”
A short distance away, at the foot of a small hill, was a well-worked plot of ground. Four piles of stones were its boundaries. Near the center a stick of wood was driven in the ground, a paper nailed to the top.
“What’s she say?” Nick demanded.
“This claim located and filed by Gus Tripp—me—August twenty-second,” was the reply. “It’s about the only claim this far up except Maryland’s. That’s his over there.”
“What’s he do, stick a shovel into it every so often?” Silent asked.
“Yea, that’s about it. She ain’t been worked much, has she? Well, that’s Maryland. Now, boys, I tell you. This here camp has been quieter than I thought it would be, an’ I reckon that’s because the news hasn’t really got around yet. But somethin’ tells me that to-morrow or next day you’ll see plenty of excitement near here.”
“So we better get located quick, hey?” Nick said.
“That’s it. Here! How about taking a claim right next to mine?”
“Sure! That’s a good idea,” Roy agreed. “How do you stake it?”
“Just like I staked mine. Take stones or stakes an’ set ’em out. Make it just the size of mine—that’s regulation. Come on, let’s go.”
They dismounted and tied the ponies to a tree.
“You pace it off, Teddy,” Roy suggested. “In line with Gus’s.”
The claim was paced and stones placed at each corner. Suddenly Gus exclaimed:
“Hey, I forgot! Don’t you want four claims, one for each? Sure you do! Then we’ll incorporate it—wow, that’s a word for you!—we’ll incorporate it in one big claim. That’s legal. Here, I’ll pace it for you.”
This was done.
“Now, the thing to do is to go to the filing office—that’s at the end of the street near Mike’s Place—and register your claim. At the same time you can leave an assay sample—some of the ore—to see how much it’ll assay to the ton.”
“Can’t we do that later?” Teddy asked. “We’ve got to get some more shovels and picks first. And we’ve got to get out some real sample dirt, not this top soil.”
“Yea, later’ll do for that. This is one hundred an’ eleven above discovery, because mine’s a hundred an’ ten. Funny, all the other waddies went below discovery. They have over six hundred claims staked down there. ButI’m bettin’ this is just as good. Who’s goin’ to ride in an’ file this?”
“I’ll go,” offered Silent. “An’ I’ll bring back a mule with some stuff on him. We might as well get to work.”
“Hope to tell you!” Nick exclaimed eagerly. “Let’s see that shovel, Teddy! Me, I’m startin’ now!”
“A pick’s what you want, first along,” Gus declared, tossing him the last named article. “Look! See how I started to dig the shaft in my claim? She ain’t down so far yet, but I’m aimin’ to sink her lots deeper.”
“Well, I’ll be goin’,” Silent said. “Be back as soon as I can.”
While Silent rode back to camp, the Manley boys and Nick inspected the shaft that Gus had sunk. By its side were some cut timbers, which, Gus explained, would soon become a windlass—“when I sinks her a little lower ’n she is now.”
“Exactly how much gold have you found so far?” Roy asked.
“Hum—about, maybe, a hundred bucks’ worth at a liberal estimate. That’s not so bad.”
“It’s not so good, either,” Nick asserted. “Well, boys, here she goes—the first one!”
He swung the pick over his head and sunk the point into the earth.
“Wait a second!” Teddy, taking the top from his canteen, poured a libation over the pick as it stuck in the ground.
“For good luck,” he said, grinning. “All right, Nick, go to it!”
When Silent returned there was quite a sizable hole to show for Nick’s diligence. While he dug, the others busied themselves with the cutting of some timber for sluice-boxes and a windlass.
“Filed ’em,” Silent said laconically. “Two bucks the guy charged. That’s all. Now we can dig through to China.”
“You got any choice as to claims?” Nick asked, resting from his labors and wiping the perspiration from his forehead.
“Nope. Not any. I’ll take the furtherest one, or any other. Don’t make no difference,” was Silent’s reply.
“All the gold we find we split,” Roy declared, coming up at that moment. “Even shares O.K.?”
“It is with me,” Silent responded. “Hey, Nick, suppose you help me unload this here mule.”
The work of mining went on. Gus had his own claim to work but now and then he would walk over to see how his neighbors were making out. By lunch time the hole had reached a depth of ten feet.
“Let’s knock off,” Teddy suggested. “I’m hungry.”
“Wait a couple more minutes,” Roy suggested. “Hey, pull up!”
Roy was digging from the bottom of the shaft, filling with dirt a basket that Silent had brought, and Teddy was engaged in pulling up the basket by means of a rope tied to the corners, and emptying it.
“We’ll have to board that up this afternoon,” Silent declared, stopping for a moment the construction of a sluice-box. “We don’t want no accidents to happen.”
“You mean a cave-in?” Nick asked. “Say, we will have to watch out for that! Be a fine thing if—”
“Don’t get so blamed close!” Silent interrupted. “Roy’s down there. Want to shower him with dirt?”
“Yea, that’s right,” Nick agreed, stepping back. “Jiminy, I—”
Whatever it was that he was going to add remained unsaid, for at that moment the soil at the top of the hole began to slide.
“Golly! I knew that should have been shored up!” Silent shouted. “Roy, get out of there!”
“Coming!” was the answer. “Who’s tossing stuff at me? Hey, don’t do that! I can’t—”
The voice stopped, cut off as though by aheavy curtain. The edge of the hole crumbled away and shot down into the shaft—and Roy was underneath.
“Roy!” Teddy shouted hoarsely. “Roy! You fellows, come here! Run! Quick! He’s buried!”
The little landslide stopped as quickly as it had begun. Now the hole was barely three feet deep.
Teddy leaped into it and began frantically to dig with his bare hands. “Get him!” he was yelling. “We’ve got to get him before he suffocates!”
Nick jumped to Teddy’s side, and his shovel ate into the earth. Silent, with rare presence of mind, ran for Gus, to obtain more shovels.
“We’ll make it,” Nick panted. “He’s not so far down!”
“That was my fault,” Teddy almost sobbed. “I leaned over the edge, and all of a sudden—”
Gus, bearing two shovels, arrived on the scene. As best he could he helped Nick and Teddy dig, while Silent shoved back the earth from the edge of the hole so as to prevent another cave-in.
“Careful,” Nick panted. “We’re gettin’ near him. If you feel your shovel strike—”
“Watch it!” Teddy shouted. “Look!”
A hand burst through the earth, and openedand closed frantically. Roy was still conscious, and just below the surface.
“Go it!” Teddy shouted. “Don’t hit his head with the spades!”
More of the wrist appeared, then the arm. Then, with a sob of relief, Teddy was wiping the dirt from his brother’s face, while Roy gasped in the precious air again. He was saved, though still buried to his shoulders.
It was some moments before he could speak. Nick and Gus continued to dig, carefully, so they would not injure Roy. In all, his head had been covered with the heavy, damp earth about three and a half minutes.
“Boy, that was a close one!” Teddy babbled. “Roy, are you all right now? Swallow any of that dirt? You can breathe all right, can’t you?”
With his free hand Roy brushed the soil from his hair. The first words he said were:
“Did some one mention food?”
“Hot dog, there’s a guy for you!” Nick exclaimed. “You stick to it, and we’ll have you out in a minute. Legs all right?”
“Little weak, or I could get out myself now,” Roy answered. “Snakes, that was sudden! Oh, by the way—”
Standing up to his armpits in dirt, Roy managed to get his other hand loose. The fist was closed.
“Here’s a souvenir,” he said, grinning. “Take a look!”
His hand opened. For a moment Nick and Gus stopped digging. Silent peered down from the surface.
In Roy’s hand lay a large, yellow-colored stone, studded with darker rock. Nick saw it, and gave a yell.
“A nugget!” he shouted. “A nugget, and a blame big one! Silent, have a look! Boy, you sure hit it!”
“I reckon,” Silent drawled, “that you have. From the looks of things, that there is worth about two hundred bucks.”
Forgottennow was the fate Roy had just escaped by the narrowest margin. Forgotten was the terrific labor that had been necessary to extricate him. Forgotten was everything except that piece of yellow-studded rock that lay on Roy’s palm.
“Pay dirt!” Nick gasped. “Pay dirt, by golly! Two hundred bucks—in one handful—”
“Nick, for Pete’s sake, if you’re going to lay down on the job, let’s have the shovel and I’ll dig myself out!” Roy said, grinning weakly. He was recovering rapidly from his unpleasant experience. “Think I want to sleep here?”
“Snakes, I forgot about that!” Nick seized the shovel again and continued his labors with energy. Roy, still clinging to the nugget, was finally brought to the surface. What had seemed the beginning of a tragedy had turned into a stroke of marvelous luck.
“Here’s how it was,” Roy explained, as he sat on the ground. “I heard some one yell overhead, and—”
“That was Silent,” Nick interrupted.
“And then the next thing I knew a clod of earth hit me on the shoulder. I thought some one was kidding me. The next second the walls started to cave in. A big chunk slid off and buried me up to my knees. I yelled, and tried to get out quick, and then I saw this nugget in the hole where the dirt had slid from.” He held the odd-shaped rock in his hand and gazed at it. “Yes, sir,” he went on, “I saw the nugget and made a grab for it. Then the whole world hit me on the head and shoulders, and the rest you know.”
“Yes, we know,” murmured Teddy.
“It’s an ill wind that blows nobody no good,” Nick orated. “An’ it’s a bum landslide that don’t uncover somethin’. Well, Roy, you sure have had your initiation as a miner.”
“Personally, I’m going back to camp and remove some of the initiation,” Roy answered, with a laugh. “I suppose you waddies will be right here?”
“We’ll be right here,” Teddy replied. “Where there’s some gold there’s sure to be more. What you going to do with the nugget, Roy?”
“Take it to the assay office.”
“That’s a good idea,” Silent approved. “Leave it there to be tested.”
“She’ll test up plenty,” Gus declared. “Twohundred is about right, I reckon. You all right now, Roy? I’ll get back to my claim.”
“And whatever that nugget measures, you’re in it,” Roy called. “Lucky for me you were around. We didn’t have enough shovels. I’d have been there yet. Thanks, Gus—a lot.”
“Toss it away,” Gus replied, with a grin. “What’s the idea, thankin’ me? I had a little exercise, that’s all.”
Alone, Roy rode back to the tent, washed and changed his clothing. His head ached, but aside from that he felt no effects from his experience. Later he took the nugget and left it at the assay office.
When he returned to “One hundred and eleven” he found that the hole was even deeper now than it had been before. But to prevent a re-occurrence of the cave-in, timbers cut from trees were driven into the ground against the walls.
“That’s what should have been done before,” Silent remarked, as he saw Roy. “I was goin’ to suggest it, but thought I’d wait a while. I’ll know better the next time.”
“We all will,” Roy declared. “How you making out?”
“Struck nothin’ yet. Give us time. We will.”
The work went on all that day and the next, the shaft growing ever deeper. Nick was engaged in the construction of a makeshift windlass when he heard a voice:
“Hey!”
The others heard it too, and stopped to listen. It seemed to come from behind a pile of cut timber.
“Hey! Blame it, how about—”
“Who is it—Gus?” Teddy asked.
“No, there’s Gus over there. I don’t know who it is. Maybe—”
“Hey! My flivver’s busted! But I got here, by golly, on two flats an’ a busted wheel! I got here!”
A figure stepped into view. Teddy let out a shout.
“It’s Bug Eye! For the love of Pete! What’d you say, Bug Eye?”
“Not much!” The puncher approached, grinned ruefully, took off his sombrero and bowed low.
“Greetings to you-all,” he said. “I bring with me the dewy freshness of the early morn, good luck from my boss, an’ one broken-down flivver. Howdy, Gus! How you fellers hittin’ ’em?”
“Gradually,” Gus replied. “What’s new?”
“First, I want to know if you found anything,” Bug Eye declared, rolling a cigarette. “Me an’ my flivver—which, by the way, lies yonder in the cornfield or some place—has cometo you a-thirst for knowledge. Tell me, pretty maiden, hast found any gold?”
“Roy picked up a nugget worth five hundred,” Nick declared. “Five or six hundred.”
“Or even two,” Silent corrected, with a chuckle. “But he did find one.”
“Baby! Then there is gold? An’ I was afraid it was a fairy tale! Hot potato, here’s where I locate! Gold, hey? Well, split my esophagus!” He blew on his hands eagerly. “Gold!”
“How are things at the 8 X 8?” Roy demanded. “How’s Jerry Decker?”
“Better. Your sister is stayin’ there a while, Roy. Me, I think she’s hipped on the doc. Yea, Jerry’s better. He said if you heard of or seen a buck-skin bag with the initials G. D. burned in it, to grab it, because that’s what he had his nuggets in when they were stolen.”
“Any trace of the thieves?” Teddy asked.
“Nary trace. I don’t suppose you boys—”
“Have anything to eat? We have! A buck-skin bag, with his initials in it?” Roy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Well, that’s something. We’ll be on the lookout.”
He did not tell Bug Eye of their adventure on the way to camp, since to do so would be to involve Silent. Simply he described, as best he could, the two men who had been seen riding away from the figure on the ground, who laterproved to be Decker. The description was strengthened by the quick view he had had of the two horsemen the night of the storm.
“Well, I reckon they’ll steer clear of Nugget Camp for a while,” Bug Eye stated. “It would sure please the old coot if we got his gold back for him, though. Where’s them eats?”
It was past mid-day, and the miners decided to knock off and return to the tent. When Teddy suggested to Bug Eye that he lock his flivver or anchor it to a tree, the puncher replied:
“Boy, Columbus hisself couldn’t move that machine! She’s sot, that’s what she is! An’ there she’ll stay till I makes a fortune here.”
“Figgerin’ to move it before Christmas?” Nick asked.
“Uh-huh! Long about Thanksgiving I’ll solder on my boots an’ head for the East, if I can get somebody to help carry my nuggets.”
When Bug Eye was told how Roy had made his “strike,” the cowboy whooped in amazement.
“Is that the custom here?” he demanded. “You got to be buried before you hit pay dirt? Then here’s the little man what starts a new system. Me, I leans down an’ picks ’em up. Yay, bo!”
They were in the tent now, sitting before a meal of Silent’s concoction. Nick, who wasnearest the entrance, suddenly turned, a fork full of beans half way to his mouth.
“Who is it?” he called.
The tent flap parted and a man stuck his head in. None of them had seen him before.
“Howdy, gents,” he said. “You new here?”
“Just arrived,” Roy answered. “Come in. Have something to eat?”
The stranger, a tall, big-boned man in rough clothes, entered.
“Not me,” he answered. “Had mine. Say whose flivver is that ’bout quarter of a mile to the north?”
“She answers to the name of Lizzie, an’ she comes when I call her,” Bug Eye replied. “Why?”
“Want to sell it?”
“Now, I ain’t thought much about it,” the puncher answered slowly. “She’s got two flats an’ a busted wheel.”
“Give you seven hundred.”
“Seven hundred!” Silent, sitting on an upturned box, looked at the man closely. “Is she worth that?”
“She is to me. Well?”
“Certain, you can have it for that price,” Bug Eye declared. He frowned slightly. Three hundred would have been an exorbitant figure.
“O.K.” The big man nodded. “Here’s the cash.” He drew a roll of bills from his pocket.“Five hundred, five-fifty, six, seven hundred. Right?”
“Yea, it’s right, all right,” Bug Eye said. “But don’t you want a bill of sale or somethin’?”
The stranger laughed.
“A bill of sale, out here? No! Then the flivver’s mine? Got a key?”
“Key’s in it. How come you want it so bad?”
“Got to have somethin’ to cart my stuff. I can fix them tires an’ the wheel. You see, I made a strike ’bout two hours ago. Figger I got near twelve thousand bucks.”
“Wow!” A look of amazement came to the faces of those listening. “Twelve thousand bucks! Where’d it happen, stranger?”
“Ah—that I ain’t sayin’. But I’d be much obliged if one of you’d help me load. Look, I got a wheel that I bought a week ago—an auto wheel, I mean. I want to get out of this camp as soon as I can an’ get the stuff to a safe place. If you—”
“I’ll help you,” Nick volunteered. “Want to start now?”
“Yea, I’d like to. My tent’s down the road a piece. You got some tools in the flivver, I suppose. I can have it fixed up in no time. An’ I’ll pay you what you want for your trouble,” nodding toward Nick.
“Hey, nothin’ doin’! I don’t want no pay. Come on, let’s go. All right?” The puncher looked over at Roy.
“Sure, go ahead! See you later.”
Nick followed the man from the tent. When they had gone, Teddy turned to his brother.
“Well?” he said.
“Uh-huh—that’s the way I feel about it. Seven hundred dollars! I reckon that isn’t much to him, though. Say, did he strike anybody as being—sort of queer?”
“He did me,” Silent remarked quietly. “The way he came in an’ how he told about his strike. Most people wouldn’t do that. An’ how’d he know where the flivver was?”
“Unless his claim is near yours,” Bug Eye put in.
“It isn’t,” Teddy declared. “Gus told us ours were the only claims that far up. I wonder—” he stopped, then went on: “I wonder if he could have been taking a look at ours?”
“What for?”
“Oh, just curiosity,” Teddy said evasively. “But if he’s trying to pull something funny, he won’t get far with Nick.”
“I’ll tell a maverick he won’t!” Roy arose. “Well, let’s get back to work. Snakes, suppose you hit pay dirt for twelve thousand dollars! Would you go into a stranger’s tent and ask for help to cart the stuff?”
“I would not,” Silent asserted. “The whole thing looks fishy.”
They wandered out of the tent into the open. Gus, who had finished his meal—he had refused to join them on the plea that there were some things he had to do in his own tent—was told of the stranger’s offer and Nick’s accompanying him to help load his gold.
“That waddie is goin’ to get hisself in trouble one of these days, bein’ so kindhearted,” Gus said. “Load the gold! Where to? What for?”
Teddy shrugged his shoulders.
“Can’t say. We’ll know more when Nick comes back. Come on, boys—we have work ahead of us.”
They mounted their ponies and started again for their claim. But as they rode they were thinking, not so much about gold, as about the tall stranger and his request for help.
Nickand the stranger, who said his name was Jimmie Allen, walked toward Allen’s tent. It proved to be quite a distance from Nick’s shelter, and not directly on the street, but set back slightly from the others.
“Here she is,” Allen said. “Not as nifty as some I’ve seen, but she serves the purpose.” He looked at Nick. “You been to a minin’ camp before?”
“Once—a long time ago. Don’t remember much about it. Why?”
“Thought you looked familiar, that’s all. Now here’s the plan. I figger on cartin’ this stuff to the flivver now, fixin’ the wheel an’ tires, an’ headin’ out. I’ll leave the rest of this stuff right here—” he waved his hand at the tent—“because I’ll be comin’ back.”
“Where’s the gold?” Nick inquired.
Again the man looked at him sharply. Then he laughed.
“You interested in that, hey? Well, there she lays.” He pointed to a heavy box in thecorner of the tent. It had a padlock thrust through two heavy staples.
“In there,” Allen went on. He walked to the box, knelt, and unlocked it. “Have a look!”
Nick bent over eagerly. Within the box were many bags, bulging with rock. Certain it was that they would be too many for one man to carry, at least without every one’s noticing it.
“We’ll divide ’em up an’ get goin’,” Allen stated. “I’ll take the wheel.” There was an auto wheel lying against the side of the tent, and he thrust his arm through the spokes. “Put the bags in your pockets—we don’t want the whole camp to know what we’re doin’.”
“Right.”
Nick lifted the bags gingerly, realizing that he held considerable wealth in his hands. When his pockets were filled, Allen took the rest.
“Suppose you get your bronc, now—I should of thought of that before,” Allen declared. “You get your bronc an’ meet me here. Then we’ll ride out to the flivver together. You got a gun? Yea, I see it. O. K!”
“Well, shall I take these things now?” Nick motioned to his pockets. “Wouldn’t it be better to leave ’em here till I get back?”
“Naw, take ’em along. You look honest enough.” Allen laughed, a trifle loudly. “I’ll wait here.”
Nick nodded, and left the tent. He felt uneasy with so much gold on him. But who knew he had it? Besides, there wasn’t any danger of a hold-up in broad daylight on the main street of the mining camp.
He reached the place where he had left his pony, and saw that the other broncos were already gone.
“Back to the shaft,” Nick thought. “The flivver is near there, so maybe I’ll meet ’em on the way.”
Allen was walking impatiently up and down before his tent when Nick returned. The puncher thought he detected relief on the big man’s face as he came into sight.
“Was he afraid I’d run away with the stuff?” Nick wondered. “Well, I can’t blame him for bein’ a bit nervous. I have about six thousand dollars’ worth of nuggets with me, I should say at a rough estimate.”
Allen mounted his own horse, and the two set out, side by side. They did not pass the miners, taking another route, with Allen leading. Nick wanted to ask him how he happened on the flivver, but he refrained. After all, it was none of his business.
The “Lizzie” was in a cleared space, just off the trail. As Nick looked down the road it had come, he easily understood how the wheel had become broken and the tires punctured.
“What did that fellow do—bring himself an’ nothin’ else?” Allen asked, as he dismounted.
“Well, we had planned to meet him here. We brought all the stuff on mules,” Nick explained. “That’s why there’s nothing in the flivver. Goin’ to get at that wheel now?”
“Soon as I get rid of this stuff. Here, put the bags in the back seat. Or wait, hand ’em to me.”
He reached out, and Nick deposited two of the bags in his large hand. Allen hefted them.
“There’s steak an’ lamb chops an’ clothes an’ plenty of shows right in this here bag,” he said musingly. “The old pay dirt!”
“You sure hit it,” Nick responded absently, bringing out another bag. “If I have half that luck I’ll be satisfied.”
“Well, we can’t all—” Allen stopped, and his fingers caressed the bag. A queer look came over his face.
“Hey, wait—” he began, and suddenly opened the bag. His eyes widened and an exclamation burst from his lips.
“Well, you double-crosser!” he roared. “Stick ’em up! Stick ’em up, quick!”
His gun was out and pointing at Nick’s forehead.
“You blamed double-crosser!” Allen shouted again.
“What the mischief—” Nick stuttered, hishands over his head. “What’s the idea? What’s the big idea?”
“I’ll show you what’s the idea!” Allen, his face contorted with rage, thrust the bag under Nick’s nose. “Look at that! Take a good look! Nothin’ but ordinary rock! Thought you’d get away with it, did you? Thought I’d find it out when I was on my way? You knew I was plannin’ to start now. You dirty double-crosser! An’ I thought you was honest! I trusted you!”
“Well, you’re barkin’ up a wrong tree now, mister!” Nick responded hotly. “Whatever’s in that bag you put in! I ain’t had it out of my pocket since you saw me put it in! An’ that’s straight!”
“Yea, a hot story that is! Know any more good jokes?” Allen paused and narrowed his eyes. “I reckon,” he said meaningly, “you know what happens to a thief in a mining camp?”
Nick did not reply. Suddenly the whole thing was plain to him. Allen had been waiting for this chance until a new man came into camp and he could work his little game. There was never any gold in the bags. But Allen had declared, before witnesses, that he had twelve thousand dollars’ worth. That would be good evidence before a jury of miners. Everything was in his favor and against Nick.
“Well, what you got to say?” Allen taunted. “What a fool you are to think you could get away with a thing like that! I sure gave you enough chance—you had the gold with you when you went to get your bronc. Plenty of chance to change it for rock. Maybe you thought I’d just toss these here bags in the car without lookin’, hey?”
Nick stared at him calmly.
“Allen,” he said, “it won’t go.”
“Huh?” Allen’s face grew red. “Won’t go? You’re blamed well right it won’t go! Where’s my gold?”
Nick, his hands still in the air, shrugged his shoulders.
“Do whatever you’re goin’ to do, an’ get it over with,” he answered briefly. “You know I ain’t got your gold—that there never was any gold in them bags.”
“Oh, I do, hey?” Allen sneered. “Well, I had two of the bags myself. You took most of ’em, because I had to carry the wheel. How come there’s gold in the ones I got?”
“Listen, Allen,” Nick said coldly. “I don’t know what you’re gettin’ at, but whatever it is let’s have it without wastin’ all this time. You figgered this thing out pretty good. When I went to get my bronc, you probably emptied the rock out of the bags you had an’ put some gold in, just enough to make it look real. Then,with me carryin’ these bags around, you figgered you had a good case against me—that I had time to take the gold an’ put rock in. That’s what you want other people to believe. Well, all right. Now what?”
Allen gazed at him for a moment. Then he smiled sarcastically.
“Great talker, ain’t you? We’ll see how much talkin’ you’ll do later on. Come on, now, get goin’!” His voice sharpened. “Get on your bronc an’ head back for camp!”
“To camp?”
“You heard me! An’ one break an’ I plugs you. Wait a second.” Allen leaned forward, pulled Nick’s gun from its holster and tossed it into the bushes. “All right! Get goin’!”
“Can’t figger this,” Nick muttered, getting on his pony. “Oh, you know blame well I won’t make no break. If you want to go back to camp, that’s up to you—only I don’t see what it’ll get you.”
“You don’t, hey?” Allen laughed shortly. “I know what it’ll get you—a rope around your neck!”
“Yea?”
The ponies moved off. Suddenly Allen, who was riding behind Nick, his gun still out, exclaimed:
“Listen, you! Hold up a minute.” He urged his pony forward and went close toNick. “Now I ain’t a vindictive cuss,” he said softly. “All I want is my gold. It won’t do me no good to have you strung up. So—” he hesitated. Then: “I’ll give you a chance. I shouldn’t, but I will. By rights I ought to ride you in an’ let the boys at camp fit a necktie on to you. That’s what I ought to do. But I’ll give you a chance. You get my gold back from wherever you put it an’ we’ll call it off. You had about ten thousand dollars’ worth. You give me ten thousand in cash or in gold, an’ I’ll forget all about it. See?”
Like a flash Nick saw the game. Fool, fool that he was not to have caught on before! Framed! Framed as pretty as any one ever was!
As he thought of how he had fallen for the ruse, he laughed bitterly.
“You’re a clever guy, Allen,” he said. “Blamed clever. There’s one thing you overlooked. I haven’t got ten thousand dollars or ten thousand nickels, either. You crazy, or somethin’? Where’d I get ten thousand dollars?”
Allen shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s up to you. If you don’t want to give me my gold back, maybe your friends will lend you the money—to save you from hangin’. Those Manley boys can get the cash—an’ they will, too. It ain’t pleasant to see apal doin’ a Black Bottom on a hunk of air.”
The blood rushed to Nick’s face.
“You dirty hound!” he gasped. “Blackmail! So that’s it! You did know your stuff after all, didn’t you? Had it all planned out! Well, by golly, you take me to camp an’ see how much good it’ll do you! Think you can convict me on your word alone? How can you prove there was gold in them bags?”
“Go easy on them names!” The eyes behind the gun narrowed. “You see, stranger, we don’t need much proof in this here camp. Four or five witnesses heard you offer to help me cart the gold. A friend of mine was standin’ outside my tent when you walked off with the bags. You didn’t see him, but he was there, sure enough. The boys around here are sort of hair-triggered. Man, I got enough proof to hang you ten times over!”
“Hey, what’s this talk about hangin’?”
Nick and Allen turned quickly at the sound of the voice. It was Bug Eye, and he had his pistol leveled straight at Allen’s heart.
“You drop that gun, bozo!” he said sharply. “Drop it quick!”
Thegun fell from Allen’s fingers. It struck the pony on the neck, and he shied. Bug Eye moved his bronco forward.
“Now we’ll have a little conversation,” he went on. “Nick, what’s it all about?”
“It’s about robbery, that’s what it’s about!” Allen broke in. “Your little playmate took the gold I trusted him with and substituted rock! Look!” He pulled from his pocket the bag that Nick had handed him. “Plain, ordinary rock!”
“He done what?”
“He stole my gold, that’s what he done!”
“Bah!”
Contained in the exclamation was all the contempt that Bug Eye could give it.
“Nick never stole nothin’. I don’t know what the game is, but—”
“It’s blackmail, Bug Eye,” Nick said quietly. “Allen thinks he’s got me for stealin’ gold that he never had. Says if I get ten thousand bucks from Teddy or Roy or from the boss, he’ll call it off.”
“Ten thousand bucks!”
“Well, there was that much gold in the bags he had!” Allen said defiantly. “If I don’t get the gold, I want the money!”
“Uh-huh.” Bug Eye regarded Allen silently. Suddenly he grinned.
“Nick,” he said, “slide down an’ pick up the gun this here waddie just dropped. I notice you lost yourn. Then, my lad, we’ll take a little ride. Allen, you ride ahead. We’ll see what the rest have to say to this! No, not toward camp—over to little ole One Hundred an’ Eleven! The boys are waitin’ there. To the left, Allen. We’ll have a debate on this here subject!”
Bug Eye had ridden toward his flivver to see if he had left anything of value in the car, telling those at the mine he would be back in half an hour. He kept to his word—he was back within the time set and with him rode Nick and Allen, the latter under surveillance of Bug Eye’s gun.
When they approached the mine, Teddy and Roy were erecting a makeshift windlass that Silent had constructed. They looked up in surprise as they saw Bug Eye with his gun out.
“What’s the trouble, Bug Eye?” Teddy called.
“Well, it’s a long story,” the puncher replied. “You, Allen, slide off that bronc!”
Muttering to himself, the man obeyed. Things were not shaping up as he had expected.
“Now, boys, we’ll have that debate,” Bug Eye said smoothly. “Gather ’round, gents, an’ listen to a tale. Hey, Gus! You might as well be in on this too.” He waited until Gus came up, his eyes wide with wonder. Bug Eye and Nick were off their ponies, standing before Allen.
“Nick, suppose you start the proceedings,” Bug Eye suggested. “Make it short an’ snappy.”
“I will.” Nick jerked his thumb toward Allen. “This here hombre, boys, claims I stole the gold he said he gave me. We went to his tent, an’ I put some bags in my pocket. Then he asked me to get my bronc, which I did, an’ we rode over to the flivver. When we gets there he pulls his gun, shows me there’s rock in the bags I had, and claims I grabbed his nuggets. Reckon that’s about all.”
“When I came up he was talkin’ about hangin’,” Bug Eye said gently. “Hangin’, Roy. Nice, pleasant word, ain’t it?”
“By golly, you’ll see how pleasant it is!” Allen flared. “This feller stole my gold, ten thousand dollars’ worth, an’ I want it back or the cash for it! You waddies think you’re pretty great, don’t you? Well, by golly, I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing, and little of that,” Roy broke in quietly. “Nick, did you see any gold in the bags you took?”
“Not any, Roy. I never opened ’em. First time I seed what was in ’em was when this bird opens one, and shows me some stones. That’s all I know about it.”
“How can you prove there was gold in ’em?” Teddy demanded.
“’Cause the ones I carried still have gold in ’em, for one way! How come he happened to pick the only bags that had rock, like he says?”
“When I went to get my bronc,” Nick said, “Allen threw out the rock from the bags he had an’ put some gold in, enough to make it look real. When I took the bags there was stones in all of ’em.”
“Think you’ll make the boys at camp believe that?” Allen sneered. “Likely I’d ask you to help me carry a load of stones, ain’t it?”
“That’s what you done!” Nick exclaimed hotly. “You framed me, that’s what! But you won’t get away with it!”
“You want to go before a jury of miners with that story?” Roy asked. Silent, while all this was going on, regarded Allen carefully.
“Either that or ten thousand bucks! If this bird don’t get me back my gold, he’s got to getthe cash. An’ he knows where he can get it, too.”
“He means from your dad, Roy. He thinks he’d give the money to save me from hangin’.”
“He would, as far as that goes,” Teddy declared. “You know that, Nick. But let’s talk this thing out. Allen, you don’t really think you have a chance to succeed with this plan of yours, do you?”
“Plan or not, I want my ten thousand bucks,” the man answered stubbornly. “A friend of mine, who I’ll find when I need him, was standin’ outside the tent when this bird walked out with my nuggets. That’s one witness. Then all of you heard me say I had twelve thousand worth of nuggets, an’ I wanted help to carry ’em to the flivver. Look, didn’t I give seven hundred for the flivver without battin’ an eye? Think I’d do that if I hadn’t struck it pretty rich?”
“Man, you sure got things figgered out,” Gus said. “But what makes you think we’ll testify? We’re not crazy, you know!”
“Oh, you’ll testify all right. The boys’ll see to that.”
“Ah, they will, huh?” Gus exclaimed. “They won’t see to nothin’, let me tell you! Why, you ornery, low-down—”
“Take it easy, Gus,” Roy advised. “It won’t do any good to talk that way. Listen,Allen. You may have friends in this camp, but we have, too. Four or five of our men from the X Bar X—and I guess you heard of that—are around here some place. We haven’t seen ’em yet, but they won’t be hard to find if it comes to a show-down. Now my advice to you is this, and I mean it. You slide out of here as quick as you can. Get on your pony and vamoose. We won’t follow you or try to make trouble for you. And that’s my advice.” A moment’s silence. “Well, are you taking it?”
Allen stared at Roy. For a second those about him thought he was going to back down. But suddenly his face grew red and he shouted:
“That’s your advice; is it? Well, you can take your advice an’ hang yourself with it—see! I want my ten thousand bucks, an’ I’ll get ’em or your friend here will do a little dance in the air! An’ that’s my advice—take it!”
“You—” Nick began, and stepped toward Allen, his fist clenched. But before he could strike Silent seized him by the arm.
“Wait a second,” the puncher said quietly. “Where’d you get that gun, Nick?”
“This one?” Nick pulled the weapon from his holster. “Why, it belongs to our little friend here. He took mine an’ threw it into the bushes, so when Bug Eye came I took his. Why?”
Silent turned the gun over in his hand. Teddy and Roy saw it and started forward. They did not speak, however, but waited for Silent.
The puncher’s eyes were on the gun as though he had never seen one like it before. In truth, it was not a Western weapon. It was unlike anything cowboys carry.
Finally Silent raised his eyes and there was a strange light in them. When he spoke his voice was low, almost a whisper.
“I reckon,” he said slowly, “this here farce ends now. Allen—” this word was snapped out, “this your gun?”
Allen, his face white, did not answer. He seemed fascinated by the look in Silent’s eyes.
“You don’t have to tell me—I know.” Silent took a step forward. “Allen, you ever heard the name—Greyhound?”
“Greyhound!”
The word burst from Allen’s lips. He staggered back, his hand to his head.
“Watch him, boys!” Silent roared. “Watch him!”
Allen gave one leap and gained his saddle. Frantically he dug spurs into his pony’s sides and the maddened beast sprang high.
“Take him off!” Teddy yelled. “Look out, Silent!”
Silent, his lips in a straight line, raised hisweapon. At that moment Allen jerked his horse’s head cruelly and the bronco swerved into the cowboy, knocking him down.
“You blamed fools!” Allen yelled. “Think you could get me? So you know Greyhound, do you? Well, he’s where you’ll never find him! So long, you washed-out nursemaids!”
He brought a quirt down sharply on the back of Bug Eye’s pony, then did the same with Nick’s.
Although later, on looking back to this scene, Teddy declared they should have had time to draw a gun on Allen, at the time, events seemed to follow one another with such lightning-like rapidity that no one thought of this. Before they could fire a single shot the two ponies that had been hit ran in opposite directions and Allen was among the trees, away.
Silentpicked himself up slowly and those who looked at him saw that his face was of a peculiar grey color. The gun was still in his hand.
“Too late,” he said briefly, to Nick’s excited suggestion. “Got no ponies. Can’t chase him on foot.”
“We’d better get those broncs quick,” Roy said. “They didn’t go far—just far enough,” he added.
“That gun—” Teddy began.
Silent nodded. “Same kind. I never saw Allen before. He’s a pal of the skunk who—he’s a pal of Greyhound’s. This is a German gun.”
“We’ve seen one like it before,” Roy declared. “Do you mean to say that man—and the others—are German?”
“Not any,” Silent replied. His face gradually resumed its normal coloring. “They got these here weapons from a mail-order concern. They ain’t registered. When you use guns forkillin’,” he said in a low voice, “it’s better to get ’em through the mail instead of over a counter.”
“Killin’!” Gus exclaimed. “Did that guy Allen kill somebody?”
“It seems to be a habit,” Silent went on, “for a guy with this kind of a gun to use it on humans. A habit! Well, boys—” he drew a deep breath—“Reckon I’ve finished minin’ for a while. Now let’s get those broncs. I can see one of ’em—yep, the other, too—from here.” He pointed. “Over by that bush. They got together.”
“You mean you want to go after that fellow—after Allen?” Roy asked.
“That’s what. Sorry to leave you, but—”
“You’re not leaving us,” Teddy stated distinctly.
“Huh?” and Silent looked up.
“We’re coming with you. There’s a little matter we have to settle with certain parties—who sport guns like this. Roy, I reckon I’m speaking for you, too?”
“I’ll tell a maverick you are!” Roy exclaimed. “As you said some time back, Silent, there are some things more important than finding gold! Now let’s see.”
Roy, having made the decision, immediately made plans for carrying it out. Although the others, with the exception of Teddy, were olderthan Roy, somehow it did not seem strange that they looked to him as leader.
“How about this,” Roy went on, speaking quickly. “Some of us have got to stay here. At least one. Bug Eye—”
“I thought so,” Bug Eye broke in, grinning ruefully. “All right, Roy, you’re the boss. Anyhow, that’s the best plan. I’ll do a little mining while you guys are away. Me an’ Gus, we’ll hold the fort here.”
“You got the idea, Bug Eye,” Roy replied. “Come on, Silent, let’s round up those broncs. Then we’ll get back to the tent.”
The horses were easily caught. Bug Eye decided to ride back to camp with them, and see if he could in any way aid their preparations.
One thing they counted on, and that was that Allen would not ride out of that locality. He would join his friends, and the boys had a notion that “Greyhound” was encamped some place near Nugget Camp. It seemed logical to imagine him lying in wait for miners who had made a strike and were carrying the dust or nuggets to a safer place. Thus it was, or so Roy thought, that he had shot down Jerry Decker.
There were several crimes to be laid at the door of this same Greyhound. First, the robbery and slaying of Silent’s brother and father. That in itself was a cold-blooded deed.Why they hadn’t killed Silent as well while he was lying ill on his bed, the Manley boys could only guess, but probably it was that they knew he was in no condition to follow them.
Then the shooting of Jerry Decker. There was little doubt in Roy’s mind, or in Teddy’s either, that the same hand had directed both, if not actually committed the two deeds. Both were equally vicious, done with an entire disregard for human life.
Finally, Allen’s attempt to frame Nick and get from him ten thousand dollars. True, this was markedly different from the other crimes. Allen was not Greyhound. He was, as Roy and Teddy suspected, a member of the gang, and a weak member at that. A swindler rather than a robber. But his use of the German Mauser branded him as being a comrade of Greyhound.
That night of the storm Greyhound had been within their reach, but had escaped, wounded as he was. Gus had told them of a man who had been shot in a barroom fracas, and, by the description, it was Greyhound.
This, then, was how the situation stood. The boys had but slender clues to go by—the gun, the wounded man, the fact that they believed Greyhound to be still in the vicinity. Yet with these clues they determined to search for andfindGreyhound and Allen.
By four o’clock they were ready for the start. Each man carried both a revolver and a rifle, with much ammunition. Food, a canteen of water, a blanket and a rubber poncho apiece completed their packs.
Bug Eye stood before the tent as they mounted.
“You fellows are goin’ on a long journey,” he said quietly. “Good luck to you!”
Something besides the usual expression of a wish was in that sentence; something that showed a realization of the dangers of the journey. These men were not starting out on a jaunt. They were on the trail of a desperate criminal.
“So long, Bug Eye,” Roy called. His voice was low, even. “Take care of One Eleven.”
“Have a big nugget ready for you,” the puncher promised. “Well, so long!”
“So long!”
Four riders trotted down the street, past the long line of tents, and out upon the brown turf, heading toward the mountains. Greyhound would not be in the open. The home of bandits was among the hills.
For the first five minutes there was absolute silence. Each was busy with his own thoughts. How would this thing end? Would their party be intact on the return journey or would one of their number bear mute testimony to Greyhound’s shooting ability and cold, calculating character?
It may be that none of these riders actually analyzed the emotion which prompted him to leave Nugget Camp and venture forth in pursuit of one with whom none of them except Silent had any personal concern. Certainly, the idea of telling the authorities and letting properly authorized men take up the chase, was neither appealing nor feasible.
The nearest home of the law was Hawley, a distance of some seventy or eighty miles. True, there was law of a sort at Eagles, and at some of the other smaller towns, but not sufficient to cope with this situation. Thus, whatever was done must be accomplished by citizens imbued with that spirit which protests forcibly at such depredations as were laid to Greyhound.
After those first few, serious moments, when joking was laid aside out of an unconscious respect for Silent and not from any personal sense of fear of the future, the mood of the riders quickly changed.
“Tell you,” Nick declared, “I’m glad we met up with the Monseer Allen! ’Cause why? ’Cause Bug Eye got seven hundred bucks out o’ him an’ he’s still got his flivver.”
“Never thought of that,” Teddy remarked. “That bird was a regular con man, wasn’t he?Took a chance on losing some money to get a lot back. And if it hadn’t been for Silent here, noticing the gun in Nick’s holster, he might have succeeded.”
“Or he could have caused plenty of trouble for me,” Nick mused. “He sure had me comin’ an’ goin’. That was quite a scheme of his. Never heard of it before. Did you, Silent?”
The puncher shook his head.
“Never did. It’s a new one to me, an’ I thought I knew all about swindling games worked in mining camps. He must have gotten that from some bird from the East—New York or the like.”
“That’s the way it struck me,” Teddy broke in. “It’s an Eastern trick, sure enough. Crooks out here don’t go to that much trouble. If they want to rob a man they do it, and that’s that.”
“He must have planned his little trick for quite a while,” Silent asserted. “Look how he had everything figgered out. Why, even givin’ seven hundred bucks for the flivver was part of the plan. That would go to show he had struck it rich, or he wouldn’t be throwin’ his checks around so regardless.”
“I wonder if he did have a friend who saw me come out of his tent? I’ll bet that part was a bluff. An’ it blamed near worked, too!Wonder where Nat Raymond an’ Jim Casey were all the time we’ve been in camp? I thought sure we’d see ’em.”
“Away over on the other side,” Gus said. “We may see ’em yet.”
“Boy, we’re sure getting into the mountains now!” Teddy looked about him. “And whenever I see mountains I get hungry.”
Roy laughed, the first real laugh he had had since Bug Eye had ridden in with Nick and Allen.
“We’ll go a little farther till we strike a good spot, then camp. There ought to be a brook running through here.”
Darkness was nearly upon the party when it came upon the brook, which was probably the same stream that flowed near Nugget Camp. All dismounted and began preparations for the night.
Silent again assumed his role as cook, although there was little he could display his art with. Beans, bacon and bread, with coffee to drink, made up the meal.
The fire flared cheerily among the dark forest trees and the four gathered close around it, for the night was cool. They were well into the mountains that overlooked Nugget Camp. Somewhere about, they suspected, or hoped, Greyhound had his headquarters. As they sat talking, having finished supper, each rested hishand carelessly on the butt of his revolver.
“Sure is quiet,” Nick remarked. “Hope nothin’ disturbs me to-night.”
“Don’t worry,” Teddy said. “Those fellows aren’t—”
A snapping overhead as of a twig breaking. A swish through the air. The embers of the fire were scattered by a stone which fell among them and bounded out again—a stone with a paper tied to it.