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"It's my business to get back what I've lost and a little bit more. You leave it to me. Keep away from Culver, and bring me thirty thousand in the morning." Bostwick was breathing hard. He maintained a show of calm. "The morning's a little bit soon for me to turn around. I'll bring it when I can." McCoppet arose. The interview was ended. He added: "Have a drink?"
That Culver would now be ready, as never before, to receive a proposition whereby the owners of the "Laughing Water" claim could be deprived of their ground, he was well convinced. For reasons best known to himself and skillfully concealed from all acquaintances, McCoppet had remained practically in hiding since the moment in which he had beheld that half-breed Piute Indian in the saloon.
At any rate, I propose to be there when Van Buren arrives." McCoppet arose, plunged his hands in his pockets, and paced up and down reflectively. "Someways I'm glad Van Buren's going," he said. "I've been trying to figure how I could play the game to have him away when we come to take the trick. He's hostile in a fight. I guess it's all right. Don't need you here.
Equipped with this latest means of squeezing McCoppet, the creature emerged from his hole in time to meet the gambler at the bar, during a moment of Bostwick's temporary absence. "Opal," he said significantly, "I need to see you fer a minute. It won't be no healthier to refuse me now than it was the first time I come." The gambler looked at him coldly.
Partially educated, wholly reverted to his Indian ways and tribal brethren, Cayuse was a singular mixture of the savage, plus civilized outlooks and ethical standards that made him a dangerous man not only a law unto himself, as many Indians are, but also a strange interpreter of the law, both civilized and aboriginal. McCoppet had surmised what was coming. "Yes I noticed he was here."
They were agents employed by McCoppet, in behalf of Bostwick and himself. Napoleon was the first to note their presence. He was calling attention to the nearest man when a fifth man appeared by the cabin. He, too, had a new location post, or stake, to be planted at the center of the claim.
He found McCoppet just returned from launching Lawrence forth upon his work. Three of the gambler's chosen men had accompanied the Government's surveyor. They had taken Bostwick's car. Instructions had been simple enough. Push over the reservation line to cover the "Laughing Water" claim, by night of the following day. Searle was taken to the private den.
Even old Dave, thought sober, was disqualified, and Algy was asleep. Bostwick and McCoppet had made ample provision against attack at the claim. Their miners, who set to work at once to enlarge the facilities for extracting the gold from the ground, were gun-fighters first and toilers afterward. The place was guarded night and day, visitors being ordered off with a strictness exceptionally rigid.
And all you take away is your personal effects and you take 'em and git, right now!" "Now hold on," said Gettysburg, dazed by what he heard. "I seen that Government surveyor cuss. He said he was only running out a county line." McCoppet took the case in hand, as he halted by the boxes. "Now, boys, don't waste your time in argument," he said. "You've made a mistake, that's all.
McCoppet had snatched up a chair and with it he beat out the window. Then Trimmer's gun crashed tremendously and Opal sank against the sill. He faced his man. A ghastly pallor spread upon his countenance. He went down slowly, like a man of melting snow, his cigar still hanging on his lip. He saw the lumberman shiver.
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