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The dentist followed his example, swinging his pick with enormous force, splintering the rocks at every stroke. Cribbens was talking to himself in his excitement. "Got you THIS time, you son of a gun! By God! I guess we got you THIS time, at last. Looks like it, anyhow. GET a move on, pardner. There ain't anybody 'round, is there? Hey?"
Cribbens and the dentist sat motionless in their saddles, looking out over that abominable desolation, silent, troubled. "God!" ejaculated Cribbens at length, under his breath, with a shake of his head. Then he seemed to rouse himself. "Well," he remarked, "first thing we got to do now is to find water." This was a long and difficult task.
"What's up?" asked Cribbens a second time. McTeague slowly turned his head and looked over one shoulder, then over the other. Suddenly he wheeled sharply about, cocking the Winchester and tossing it to his shoulder. Cribbens ran back to his side, whipping out his revolver. "What is it?" he cried. "See anybody?" He peered on ahead through the gathering twilight. "No, no." "Hear anything?"
They hurried back to where they had made their discovery. "To think," exclaimed Cribbens, as he drove the first stake, "to think those other mushheads had their camp within gunshot of her and never located her. Guess they didn't know the meaning of a 'contact. Oh, I knew I was solid on 'contacts." They staked out their claim, and Cribbens put up the notice of location.
"Didn't you hear something I mean see something I mean " "What's the matter with you, pardner?" "Nothing. I guess I just imagined it." But it was not imagination. Until midnight the partners lay broad awake, rolled in their blankets under the open sky, talking and discussing and making plans. At last Cribbens rolled over on his side and slept. The dentist could not sleep. What!
He thought he was back in the Panamint hills again with Cribbens. They had just discovered the mine and were returning toward camp. McTeague saw himself as another man, striding along over the sand and sagebrush. At once he saw himself stop and wheel sharply about, peering back suspiciously. There was something behind him; something was following him.
The two went along with great strides, hurrying as fast as they could over the uneven ground. "I don' know," exclaimed Cribbens, breathlessly, "I don' want to say too much. Maybe we're fooled. Lord, that damn camp's a long ways off. Oh, I ain't goin' to fool along this way. Come on, pardner." He broke into a run. McTeague followed at a lumbering gallop.
The dentist put his huge chin in the air. "Gold is where you find it," he returned, doggedly. "Well, it's my idea as how pardners ought to work along different lines," said Cribbens. He tucked the corners of his mustache into his mouth and sucked the tobacco juice from them. For a moment he was thoughtful, then he blew out his mustache abruptly, and exclaimed: "Say, Carter, le's make a go of this.
Then, after a pause, "Let's see, I didn't catch your name." "Huh? My name's Carter," answered McTeague, promptly. Why he should change his name again the dentist could not say. "Carter" came to his mind at once, and he answered without reflecting that he had registered as "Burlington" when he had arrived at the hotel. "Well, my name's Cribbens," answered the other. The two shook hands solemnly.
The yellow streak broadened as the quartz sediment washed away. Cribbens whispered: "We got it, pardner. That's gold." McTeague washed the last of the white quartz dust away, and let the water trickle after it. A pinch of gold, fine as flour, was left in the bottom of the spoon. "There you are," he said. The two looked at each other.
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