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Updated: June 27, 2025
He was able to make the men out faintly, but not with sufficient clearness to see who or what they were. "Hold on, boys don't shoot!" warned Butler, as he stepped around the smudge to enable him to get a better view of the men whom he had come upon so unexpectedly, to them. Before him stood Curtis Darwood and Dill Bruce, the latter known among his companions as the Pickle.
We have as good a right to be here as have you, and I am not sure but that we have a better right." "We'll see about that," retorted Darwood angrily. "You let us alone! Do you hear? You let us alone! If you are looking for trouble you may have all you want and then some more besides. We are peaceable travelers, but we know from long experience how to take care of ourselves.
Needn't tell them where I am." Darwood shouldered his rifle and strode from his camp without another word. Bruce replenished the fire in order to make a smudge that could be smelled for some distance away, which was for the purpose of directing their companions to them, and also had served to call Tad Butler into their camp in advance of the other two gold diggers.
"You do?" exclaimed the boys in chorus. "Yes. I asked them. That's the way to find out what you want to know, isn't it?" chuckled Stacy. "Who are they?" asked Butler laughingly. "The minery-looking fellow is Sam Dawson. The one beside him is Curtis Darwood. The tall, slim chap nearest to us is Dill Bruce. They call him the Pickle for short." "He looks sour enough to be one," laughed Walter.
Perhaps it is considered fair enough up here to do those things, but I just can't hold myself when I see crookedness going on." "You haven't said what it was about yet," reminded Ned. "They were plotting against Darwood." "You don't say?" "Yes, they were." "How?" "I am not going to tell you now. The question is, ought I to tell Mr. Darwood?
You see his medicine wasn't calculated to head off bears. The chief, therefore, was in a bad way. Dr. Darwood was commanded to make the chief well, and, so the story goes, after examining Hoots, he at once saw what was the trouble with the old man.
"I don't believe there is any treasure," raged the Professor. "As to that, of course, I can't say, but I should think it quite probable that they had something definite. There must be something in what they have to go on. They are not fools, but intelligent men. What is more, they must think they are on the right track or they wouldn't fly off the handle as Darwood has done to-day.
But youth won, and Tad staggered out of the water a few moments ahead of his adversary and ran for the land office, Ketcham close behind him. "I file the claim to Taku Pass in the name of Curtis Darwood and others," shouted Tad, slapping the oilskin parcel on the desk. "That man's an impostor. He destroyed our markers and erected his own on our claim."
It was after supper when Tad called Ned Rector aside. "I promised to tell you, Ned. Come with me and listen to what I am going to tell Mr. Darwood." Ned went willingly. Darwood was sitting on deck. Tad halted before him, Darwood glancing up at the boys with languid interest. "May I speak with you?" asked the lad politely. "I reckon there's nothing to prevent," was the careless answer.
My finding you this morning was a pure accident." "How'd you happen to do it?" interjected Dill Bruce. "I saw your smoke signs last night." "What!" Darwood snapped the word out like the crack of a whip. "I saw your smoke signs. At least I suppose they were yours. This morning I started out, as I frequently do, in search of game.
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