you can borrow a chuck waggin; that would be handy because it would make it easy to get yore body out, 'though I reckon they'll just bury you an' let it go that way."
"They? Meanin' who?"
"I ain't got a word to say."
"There's some consolation in that," jeered Johnny.
"Yo're a fool!" snorted Pop heatedly.
"An' so that's went an' follered me down here, too," sighed Johnny. "A man can't get away from some things. Well, let's get back on th' trail. All th' prospectors I ever saw wore cowhide boots, with low, flat heels. Somehow I can't see myself trampin' around with these I'm wearin'; an' they're too expensive to wear 'em out that way. What else? Need any blastin' powder?"
"Cussed if I wouldn't grub-stake you if you wasn't goin' up there," grinned Pop. "It takes a fool for luck; an' it'll be just like you to fall down a canyon an' butt th' dirt off'n a million dollar nugget. I got a notion to do it anyhow."
"You needn't get no notions!" retorted Johnny. "I'm goin' to hog it. Prospectors never get grub-staked unless they're busted; an' I ain't got there yet. Oh, yes; I got to get them fishhooks—you see, I ain't aimin' to cripple my back workin' hard all th' time. I'll fill a sack in th' mornin', eat my dinner an' rest all afternoon. Next day I'll fill another sack, an' so on. Now, what am I goin' to get for my outfit? I'll need a lot of things."
"Go see Charley James, acrost th' street. He keeps th' general store; an' he's got more trash than anybody I ever saw."
"Mebby he can tell me what I need," suggested Johnny, hopefully.
As Pop started to answer, the doorway darkened and a man stepped into the room. Pop's face paled and he swiftly moved to one side, out of range. The newcomer glanced at Johnny, swore under his breath and his hand streaked to his holster. It remained there, for he discovered that he was glaring squarely down a revolver barrel.
"Let loose of it!" snapped Johnny. "Now, then: What's eatin' you?"
"Why—why, I mistook you for somebody else!" muttered the other. "Comin' in from th' sunlight, sudden like, I couldn't see very well. My mistake, Stranger. What'll you have?"
Johnny grunted skeptically. "Yo're shore you can see all right now?"
"It's all right, Nelson," hastily interposed the anxious proprietor, nodding emphatic assurance. "It's all right!"
"My mistake, Mr. Nelson," smiled the stranger. "I shouldn't 'a' been so hasty—but I was fooled. Yore looks are shore misleadin'."
"They suits me. What's wrong about 'em?" demanded Johnny.
"There you go again!" snorted Pop in quick disgust. "A gent makes a mistake, says he didn't mean no harm in it, an' you goes on th' prod! Didn't I tell you that yore looks would get you into trouble? Didn't I?"
"Oh! Is that it?" He arose and slipped the gun back into its holster. "I'll take th' same, Stranger."
"Now yo're gettin' some sense," beamed Pop, smiling with relief. "Mr. Nelson, shake han's with Tom Quigley. Here's luck."
"Fill 'em again," grinned Johnny. "Not that I hankers for th' kind of liquor you sells, but because we has to do th' best we can with what's pervided."
"Pop's sellin' better liquor than he used to," smiled Quigley. "Am I to thank you for th' improvement?"
"I refuse to accept th' responsibility," laughed Johnny.
"Well, he had some waggin varnish last year, an' for a long time we was puzzled to know what he did with it. One day, somebody said his whiskey tasted like a pine knot: an' then we knew th' answer."
"You both can go to th' devil," grinned Pop.
"Aimin' to make a long stay with us, Mr. Nelson?" asked Quigley.
"That all depends on how soon I gets all th' gold out of this country."
"Ah! Prospectin'?"
"Startin' tomorrow, I am: if this varnish don't kill me.
"There ain't never been none found around here, 'though I never could understand why. There was a couple of prospectors here some years ago, an' they worked harder for nothin' than anybody I ever saw. They covered th' ground purty well, but they was broke about th' time they started south of town, an' had to clear out. They claimed there was pay dirt down there, but they couldn't get a grub-stake on th' strength of that, so they just had to quit."
"That's where it is if it's any place," said Pop hurriedly. "Th' river's workin' day an' night, pilin' it ag'in them rock ledges above th' ford; an' it's been doin' it since th' world began."
Johnny shook his head. "Mebby; but there ain't no way to get it, unless you can drain th' river. I want shallow water—little streams, where there's sand an' gravel bars an' flats. I'm aimin' to work north of here."
Quigley forced a smile and shook his head. "I'm afraid you'll waste yore time. I've been all through that section, in fact I live up there, an' some of my men have fooled around lookin' for color. There ain't a sign of it anywhere."
"Well, I'm aimin' to go back north when I get tired of prospectin'," replied Johnny, grinning cheerfully; "an' I figgers I can prospect around an' gradually work up that way, toward Hope. I'll drop in an' see you if I run acrost yore place. I reckon prospectin' is a lonesome game."
"Didn't you ever try it before?" asked Quigley in surprise.
"This is my first whirl at it," reluctantly admitted Johnny. "I'm a cow-puncher, got tired of th' north ranges an' drifted down here. An' I might 'a' stayed a cow-puncher, only I got a job on th' CL an' worked there for th' last two weeks; an' I got a-plenty. It soured me of punchin'. Outside of bein' cussed suspicious, that man Logan is loco. I don't mind bein' suspected a little at first; but I ain't goin' to work like a fool when there ain't no call for it. I might 'a' stuck it out, at that, only for a fool notion of his. That's where I cut loose."
Quigley looked curious. "New notion?"
"Yes," laughed Johnny contemptuously. "He got th' idea that th' night air, close to th' river, ain't healthy for th' cows! Told us to drive all of 'em back from th' river every evenin' before we rode in. I said as how we ought to blanket 'em, an' build fires under 'em. I reckon mebby I was a mite sarcastic, at that. Well, anyhow; we had an argument, an' I drew my pay an' quit."
Pop let out a howl. "Good Lord!" he snorted. "Evenin' air too wet for cows! Drive 'em back every night! An' lemme tell you that outfit's just foolish enough to do it, too. He-he-he!"
Quigley laughed, and then looked at the proprietor: "Pop, we ain't forgettin'. We both has bought, an' it usually goes th' rounds before it stops."
"Oh, I'll set 'em up," growled Pop.
"You ranchin', Mr. Quigley?" asked Johnny.
"Well, I am, an' I ain't," answered Quigley. "I'm farmin' an' ranchin' both, on a small scale. I got a few head, but not enough to give me much bother. We sort of let 'em look after themselves."
"Oh," said Johnny regretfully. "I thought mebby if I got tired of prospectin', an' short of cash, that I might get a job with
