Part 17 (1/2)

”Them kids'll cost money, too.”

Bill nodded, but no one could have detected any interest in his movement.

”How'd it be to get that claim worked for him--while he's away?”

Bill shrugged.

”Mebbe Zip'll be gettin' back,” he said.

”An' if he don't.”

”You mean?”

There was interest enough in Bill now. His interrogation was full of suppressed force.

”Yes. James.”

Bill sprang to his feet and kicked back his chair. The sudden rage in his eyes was startling, even to Minky, who was used to the man.

However, he waited, and in a moment or two his friend was talking again in his usually cold tone.

”I'll jest git around an' see how Sunny's doin',” he said.

Then he drew out a pipe and began to cut flakes of tobacco from a black plug.

”See here, Minky,” he went on, after a moment's pause. ”You need to do some thinkin'. How much dust have you got in the store?”

”'Bout twenty thousand dollars.”

”Whew!” Bill whistled softly as he packed the tobacco in his pipe. ”An elegant parcel for strangers to handle.”

The storekeeper's face became further troubled.

”It sure is--if they handle it.”

”Jest so.”

Bill's pipe was alight now, and he puffed at it vigorously, speaking between the puffs.

”Y'see, this feller James plays a big game. Cattle duffin' and ord'n'ry stage-robbin' ain't good enough, nor big enough, to run his gang on. He needs gold stages, and we ain't sendin' gold stages out.

Wal, wot's the conclusion? I ast you?”

”He'll hev to light out, or--”

”Jest so. Or he'll get around here to--look into things. Those strangers last night were mebbe 'lookin' into things.' You'll need to stow that dust where the rats can't gnaw it. Later we'll think things out. Meanwhile there's one thing sure, we don't need strangers on Suffering Creek. There's enough o' the boys around to work the gold, an' when they get it they mostly know what to do with it. Guess I'll get on up to Zip's shack.”

The two men walked out into the store. Minky in a pessimistic mood pa.s.sed in behind his counter. This question of gold had bothered him for some weeks. Since the first stage-robbing, and James' name had become a ”terror” in the district, he had opened a sort of banking business for the prospectors. Commercially it appealed to him enormously. The profits under his primitive methods of dealing with the matter were dazzlingly large, and, in consequence, the business became a dominant portion of his trade. Nor was it until the quant.i.ty of gold he bought began to grow, and mount into thousands of dollars'

worth, that the difficulties of his traffic began to force themselves upon him. Then it was that he realized that if it was insecure to dispatch a gold stage laden with the property of the prospectors, how was he to be able to hold his stock at the store with any greater degree of security.

The more he thought of the matter the greater the difficulties appeared. Of course he saw possibilities, but none of them offered the security he needed. Then worry set in. History might easily repeat itself on Suffering Creek. James' gang was reported to be a large one.