"This old boy tells me that we'd save just twelve miles by striking off front here, instead of goin' into town. Snowy Gulch is six miles, and we have to come back to this very place. What's the use of goin' into town at all?"

"Good heavens, Ez? Have you forgotten we've got to get supplies? And your brother's gun--and his dog?"

"How do you know he's got a dog?"

"He said a pup, didn't he? But it may be an elephant for all I know. Of course, we've got to go on in."

"Yes, I know--one of us has. But, Ben, it seems to me that one of us ought to strike off now and figure out the way and sort of get located.

One of us could take a little food and a couple of blankets and make it through in less than a day. Half a day, almost. Then we could have the cabin all ready, and everything laid out for to begin work. He could blaze any dim spots in the trail and save time for the other feller, comin' with the horses."

"Oh, it would be all right," Ben began rather doubtfully. "I don't see that much is to be gained by it. But I'll strike off on foot, if you want me to."

Ezram's mind was flashing with thoughts like lightning, and his answer was ready. "Ben, if you don't mind, I'll do that," he said. "I can get along without gazin' at the sky-sc.r.a.pers of Snowy Gulch, and to tell the truth, that twelve miles of extra walkin' don't appeal to me one bit.

I'd as soon have you tend to all the things in town."

"But you'd get a ride, if you waited--"

"I hate a horse, anyway--"

"You've surely changed a lot since the war."

"I was thrown off not long ago--and have been leery of the dum things ever since. I'd walk, sooner than ride, even if I did have a horse. So you roll me that big Hudson Bay blanket and give me a couple of day's rations. I'll make a pack for my back that I can't feel. Then you strike off into town."

Without especial enthusiasm Ben agreed. Ezram gave a great sigh of satisfaction. He had put through the deal: Ben's secret thought was that Ezram's curiosity--always a p.r.o.nounced trait with the old--had mastered him, and he could not wait longer to explore the mine. Not one glimpse of the truth as to Ezram's real reason for desiring to push on alone as much as occurred to him.

Ezram was wholly deliberate. He knew what waited him on arrival at his brother's claim. Jeffery Neilson and his gang had a.s.sembled there, had already jumped the claim just as his brother had warned him that they would do; and coolly and quietly he had resolved to face them alone.

They were desperate men, not likely to be driven from the gold by threats or persuasion only. But there was no law in his life, no precept in his code, whereby he could subject his young partner to the risk.

It was true that the desire to arrive on the scene at the earliest possible moment had been a factor in his decision. One of them could hurry on, unimpeded by the pack animals, and the other must linger to secure their supplies; and there could really be no question, in Ezram's mind, which should go and which should stay. He had known perfectly that if Ben had realized the true need for haste, he would never have submitted so tamely to Ezram's will. The old man knew Wolf Darby. The strong dark eyes in the lean, raw-boned face rea.s.sured him as to this knowledge. Ben would go too, if he knew the truth. Likely he would insist on going alone.

Ezram had decided the whole thing in a flash, realizing that a lone pedestrian would be practically as effective in dealing with the usurpers as two hors.e.m.e.n, impeded by the pack animals. If they didn't shoot to kill at first sight of him Ezram would have time in plenty to seek refuge in the forest and do a sharpshooter's business that would fill his old heart with joy. And there really wasn't any question as to which of the two should go. Their partnership was of long duration; their comradeship was deep; Ben was young, and Ezram himself was old!

Ezram made his decision entirely casually, and he would have been surprised out of his wits if any one had expressed wonder of it. He knew no self-pity or sentimentality, only the knowledge that he did not desire that his young buddy should be shot full of holes in the first moment of play. The only fear that had visited him was that Ben might catch on and not let him go. And now he could scarcely restrain his triumphant chuckles in Ben's hearing.

He made his pack--a few simple provisions wrapped in his blanket--and a knife and camp axe swung on his belt. He took his trusted pipe--because he knew well that he could never acquit himself creditably in a fight without a few lungfuls of tobacco smoke first--and he also took his rifle. "You'll be gettin' my brother's gun when you get to Snowy Gulch,"

he explained, "and I may see game on the way out. And you keep this copy of the letter." He handed Ben the copy he had made of Hiram's will. "I'm the worst hand for losin' things you ever seen."

"You're sure you've got the directions straight?"

"Sure.--And I guess that's all."

They said their simple good-bys, shaking hands over a pile of stores.

"I've only got one decent place to keep things safe," Ezra confided, "and that ain't so all-fired decent, either. When I get any papers that are extra precious, I always stick 'em down the leg of these high old boots, between the sock and the leather. But it's too much work to take the boot off now, so you keep the letter."

"I suppose you've got a million-dollar bank note hidden down there now,"

Ben remarked.

"No, not a cent. Just the same, if ever I get shuffled off all of a sudden--rollin' down one of these mountains, say--I want you to look there mighty careful. There may be a doc.u.ment or two of importance--letter to my old home, and all that."

"I won't forget," Ben promised.

"See that you don't." They shook hands again, lightly and happily. "So good-by, son, and--'_take keer of yerself_!'"

The old man turned away, and soon his withered figure vanished into the thickets farther up the river. He was following a fairly well-worn moose trail, and he went swiftly. Soon he was out of hearing of the sound of the great river.

Then the little woods people--marten and ermine and rodent and such other small forest creatures that--who can say?--might watch with exceeding interest the travelers on the trails, could have thought that old Ezram was already fatigued. He sat down beside a tree and drew a soiled sheet of paper from his pocket. Searching further he found then the stub of a pencil. Then he wrote.

Having written he unlaced his boot on the right foot, folded the paper, and thrust it into the bootleg. Then, relacing the shoe, he arose and journeyed blithely on.

IX

On arriving in Snowy Gulch, Ben's first efforts were to inquire in regard to horses. Both pack and saddle animals, he learned, were to be hired of Sandy McClurg, the owner of the general store and leading citizen of the village; and at once he made his way to confer with him.

"Most of my mustangs are rented out," the merchant informed him when they met in the rear of the general store, "but if you can get along with three, I guess I can fix you up. You can pack two of 'em, and ride the third."

"Good enough," Ben agreed. "And after I once get in, I'd like to turn back two of them, and maybe all three--to save the hire and the bother of taking care of them. I suppose, after the fashion of cayuses, they'll leg it right home."

"Just a little faster than a dog. Horses don't much care to grub their food out of them spruce forests. They're good plugs, so of course I don't want to rent 'em to any one who'll abuse 'em, or take 'em on too hard trips. Where are you heading, if the question's fair?"

"Through Spruce Pa.s.s and down into the Yuga River."

"Prospecting, eh? There's been quite a movement down that way lately, considering it never was anything but a pocket country. By starting early you can make it through in a day. And you said your name was--"

"Darby. Ben Darby."

The merchant opened his eyes. "Not the Ben Darby that took all the prizes at the meet at Lodge Pole--"

Ben's rugged face lit with the brilliancy of his smile. "The same Darby," he admitted.

"Well, well! I hope you'll excuse them remarks about abusing the horses.

If I had known who you was, 'Wolf' Darby, I'd have known you knew how to take care of cayuses. Take 'em for as long as you want, or where you want. And when did you say you was going?"

"First thing to-morrow."

"Well, you're pretty likely to have companionship on the road, too.

There is another party that is going up that way either to-morrow or the day after. Pretty lucky for you."

"I'm glad of it, if he isn't a tenderfoot. That must be a pretty thickly settled region--where I'm heading."

"On the contrary, there's only three human beings in the whole district--and there's a thousand of square miles back of it without even one. These three are some men that went up that way prospecting some time ago, and this other party will make four." He paused, smiling.

"Yes, I think you will enjoy this trip to-morrow, after you see who it is. I'd enjoy it, and I'm thirty years older than you are."

Ben's thought was elsewhere, and he only half heard. "All right--I'll be here before dawn to-morrow and get the horses. And now will you tell me--where Steve Morris lives? I've got some business with him."

"Right up the street--clear to the end of the row." McClurg's humor had quite engulfed him by now, and he chuckled again. "And if I was you, I'd stop in the door just this side--and get acquainted with your fellow traveler."