locality of his bonanza, but Bud remained unimpressed.
"Yes," he said, "we was near a railroad – the Northwestern – and seemed like them red-flaggers did nothing else but burn bridges and ditch supply trains. When they finally whipped 'em off the whole bunch took to the hills. That's where we got it again."
"Well," argued Kruger, "this railroad of ours is all right, and they run a train over it every day. The concentrator at Fortuna" – he lowered his voice again – "hasn't been shut down a day, and you'll be within fifteen miles of that town. No," he whispered; "I could get a hundred Americans to go in on this to-morrow, as far's the revolution's concerned. It ain't dangerous, but I want somebody I can trust."
"Nope," pronounced Bud, rising ponderously to his feet; "if it was this side the line I'd stay with you till the hair slipped, on anything, but – "
"Well, let's talk it over again some time," urged Kruger, following him along out. "It ain't often I git took with a young feller the way I was with you, and I believe we can make it yet. Where are you staying in town?"
"Up at the Cochise," said Bud. "Come on with me – I told my pardner I'd meet him there."
They turned up the broad main street and passed in through the polished stone portals of the Cochise, a hotel so spacious in its interior and so richly appointed in its furnishings that a New Yorker, waking up there, might easily imagine himself on Fifth Avenue.
It was hardly a place to be looked for in the West, and as Bud led the way across the echoing lobby to a pair of stuffed chairs he had a vague feeling of being in church. Stained-glass windows above the winding stairways let in a soft light, and on the towering pillars of marble were emblazoned prickly-pears as an emblem of the West. From the darkened balconies above half-seen women looked down curiously as they entered, and in the broad lobby below were gathered the prosperous citizens of the land.
There were cattlemen, still wearing their boots and overalls, the better to attend to their shipping; mining men, just as they had come from the hills; and others more elegantly dressed – but they all had a nod for Henry Kruger. He was a man of mark, as Bud could see in a minute; but if he had other business with those who hailed him he let it pass and took out a rank brier pipe, which he puffed while Bud smoked a cigarette.
They were sitting together in a friendly silence when Phil came out of the dining-room, but as he drew near the old man nodded to Bud and went over to speak to the clerk.
"Who was that oldtimer you were talking to?" inquired Phil, as he sank down in the vacant chair. "Looks like the-morning-after with him, don't it?"
"Um," grunted Bud; "reckon it is. Name's Kruger."
"What – the mining man?"
"That's right."
"Well," exclaimed Phil, "what in the world was he talking to you about?"
"Oh, some kind of a mining deal," grumbled Bud. "Wanted me to go down into Mexico!"
"What'd you tell him?" challenged the little man, sitting up suddenly in his chair. "Say, that old boy's got rocks!"
"He can keep 'em for all of me," observed Bud comfortably. "You know what I think about Mexico."
"Sure; but what was his proposition? What did he want you to do?"
"Search me! He was mighty mysterious about it. Said he wanted a man he could trust."
"Well, holy Moses, Bud!" cried Phil, "wake up! Didn't you get his proposition?"
"No, he wasn't talking about it. Said it was a good thing and he'd pay me well, or let me in on the deal; but when he hollered Mexico I quit. I've got a plenty."
"Yes, but – " the little man choked and could say no more. "Well, you're one jim dandy business man, Bud Hooker!" he burst out at last. "You'd let – "
"Well, what's the matter?" demanded Hooker defiantly. "Do you want to go back into Mexico? Nor me, neither! What you kicking about?"
"You might have led him on and got the scheme, anyway. Maybe there's a million in it. Come on, let's go over and talk to him. I'd take a chance, if it was good enough."
"Aw, don't be a fool, Phil," urged the cowboy plaintively. "We've got no call to hear his scheme unless we want to go in on it. Leave him alone and he'll do something for us on this side. Oh, cripes! what's the matter with you?"
He heaved himself reluctantly up out of his chair and moved over to where Kruger was sitting.
"Mr. Kruger," he said, as the old man turned to meet him, "I'll make you acquainted with Mr. De Lancey, my pardner. My name's Hooker."
"Glad to know you, Hooker," responded Kruger, shaking him by the hand. "How'do, Mr. De Lancey."
He gave Phil a rather crusty nod as he spoke, but De Lancey was dragging up another chair and failed to notice.
"Mr. Hooker was telling me about some proposition you had, to go down into Mexico," he began, drawing up closer while the old man watched him from under his eyebrows. "That's one tough country to do business in right now, but at the same time – "
"The country's perfectly quiet," put in Kruger – "perfectly quiet."
"Well, maybe so," qualified De Lancey; "but when it comes to getting in supplies – "
"Not a bit of trouble in the world," said the old man crabbedly. "Not a bit."
"Well," came back De Lancey, "what's the matter, then? What is the proposition, anyway?"
Henry Kruger blinked and eyed him intently.
"I've stated the proposition to Hooker," he said, "and he refused it. That's enough, ain't it?"
De Lancey laughed and turned away.
"Well, yes, I guess it is." Then, in passing, he said to Bud: "Go ahead and talk to him."
He walked away, lighting a cigarette and smiling good-naturedly, and the oldtimer turned to Bud.
"That's a smart man you've got for a pardner," he remarked. "A smart man. You want to look out," he added, "or he'll get away with you."
"Nope," said Bud. "You don't know him like I do. He's straight as a die."
"A man can be straight and still get away with you," observed the veteran shrewdly. "Yes, indeed." He paused to let this bit of wisdom sink in, and then he spoke again.
"You better quit – while you're lucky," he suggested. "You quit and come with me," he urged, "and if we strike it, I'll make you a rich man. I don't need your pardner on this deal. I need just one man that can keep his head shut. Listen now; I'll tell you what it is.
"I know where there's a lost mine down in Mexico. If I'd tell you the name you'd know it in a minute, and it's free gold, too. Now there's a fellow that had that land located for ten years, but he couldn't find the lead. D'ye see? And when this second revolution came on he let it go – he neglected to pay his mining taxes and let it go back to the government. And now all I want is a quiet man to slip in and denounce that land and open up the lead. Here, look at this!"
He went down into his pocket and brought out a buckskin sack, from which he handed over a piece of well-worn quartz.
"That's
