Part 45 (1/2)

”Well,” he continued, ”we'll get to the point of it. It's kind of easy finding a gold-mine when you've a friend of my kind to put you on to it, but it's quite often a blame hard thing to keep it. Now, you'll have men from the cities wanting to buy you up, offering you a few hundred dollars for the claims you've struck, and if you're fools you'll take it. If not, you'll hold off until the Grenfell Consols go up on the market and then give us first call on buying the lot. If we can't take the deal you'll get six or eight times as much in Vancouver as you would if you let go now.”

One of the men who had spoken broke in again.

”Boys,” he said, ”when Saunders makes a proposition of that kind it's because he sees how he's going to get something out of it. But for all that, I guess it's sound advice he's giving you.”

There was a little consultation among the men, and then one of them asked a question that evidently met with the favor of his companions.

”How are we going to live in the meanwhile?”

”That's quite easy,” said the storekeeper, with a smile. ”I'll supply you with pork and flour, drills and giant-powder, at bed-rock figure, while you get in your a.s.sessment work, and while you live on your ranches afterward until you make a deal. All I ask is that you won't sell until the Grenfell's floated, and that you'll give us first call then. It's a cold fact that if I had the money I'd buy you all up now.”

There was truth in his last a.s.surance, which was at the same time a highly diplomatic one, for it occurred to most of the audience that if there was anything to be made by waiting they might as well have it as anybody else; and after a further consultation they gave him their promise. Then they trooped away to prepare their dinner, and Saunders turned to Devine with a contented smile.

”I guess,” he said, ”we've headed those company men right off this lode, and, what's most as much to the purpose, the boys will have to trade with me if anybody comes up and starts another store. Just now I'd feel quite happy if I knew how Jim was running things.”

He was soon to learn, for he had scarcely risen from a meal of salt pork, somewhat blackened in the frying-pan, and grindstone bread indifferently baked by Devine, when Jim and several strangers plodded into camp. He was very ragged, and apparently very weary, but he displayed no diffidence in accounting for his presence.

”It was kind of lonesome down there, and I figured I'd come along,” he said.

Saunders gazed at him for a moment in mute indignation before his feelings found relief in words.

”And you raking in money by the shovelful!” he gasped.

”No,” said Jim, decisively, ”I wasn't quite doing that. Anyway, it was your money. I got only a share of it; and you didn't figure I'd stay back there weighing out flour and sugar when there was a gold strike on?”

Saunders contrived to master his anger, and merely made a little gesture of resignation. He was acquainted with the restlessness which usually impels the average westerner to throw up ranch or business and strike into the bush when word of a new mineral find comes down, though much is demanded of those who take the gold trail, and, as a rule, their gains are remarkably small.

”Whom did you leave to run the store?” asked Saunders.

”n.o.body,” said Jim. ”Except two Siwash, there was n.o.body in the settlement; and, anyway, the store was most empty when the boys came along.” He indicated the strangers with a wave of his hand. ”As they hadn't a dollar between them I told them I'd give them credit, and they could pack up with them anything they could find in the place.”

Saunders appeared to find some difficulty in preserving a befitting self-restraint, but he accomplished it.

”What did you do with the money you'd taken already?” was his next question.

”Wrapped it up in a flour-bag,” said the man from Okanagan, cheerfully. ”Then I pitched the thing into an empty sugar-keg. Wrote up what the boys owed you, and put the book into the keg too. Anyway, I wrote up as much as I could remember.”

Saunders looked at Devine, who stood by, and there was contempt beyond expression in his eyes.

”That,” he said, ”is just the kind of blamed fool he is.”

Then he turned to Jim.

”If I were to talk until to-morrow I couldn't quite tell you what I think of you.”

Jim only grinned, and, sitting down by the fire, set about preparing a meal, while Saunders, who appeared lost in reflection, presently turned again to Devine.

”I guess I'll go down this afternoon,” he said. ”We'll have a fresh crowd pouring in, and they'll want provisions. Anyway, I've headed off those company men, and if it's necessary I can go through to the railroad and get hold of Weston by the wires.”

Devine admitted that this might be advisable, and Saunders, who was a man of action, took the back trail in the next half-hour. He had held his own in one phase of the conflict which it was evident must be fought before the Grenfell Consolidated could be floated, and it was necessary that somebody should go down to despatch the specimens to Weston.