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Updated: June 6, 2025
"Leave it to me," said Overland, still more ambiguously. Ringed round their little fire in the meadow sat or lay the Moonstone riders. While crossing the desert Williams had sketched a few of the red episodes in Overland's early career. These pleased the riders mightily. They were anxious to meet Red Jack Summers.
Overland's eyelids flickered. He grinned. "Uhuh! I could hear you clean over in the Simi Valley. I was thinkin' of comin' right back, only " "Oh, if you think I'm lyin to you " Overland thrust up a soiled palm. "Nix; you never did yet. How much coin can you rustle?" "I got that eight-and-a-half I had when we was pinched. It's down to the bunk-house."
"Thank you!" said Louise, and Overland's face brightened at the good-fellowship in her voice. "Thank you both, but I've had breakfast." She gazed at the solitary, bubbling, tomato-can coffee-pot of "second-edition" coffee. There was nothing else to grace the board, or rather rock. "I'll be right back," she said. "I'll just take off Boyar's bridle. Here, Boy!" she called.
A box marked "Dynamite" was half-filled with odds and ends of empty tins, cooking-utensils, and among the things was a glass fruit-jar half filled with matches. Slowly Overland's hand dropped to his side. He stepped forward, stooped, and peered into the tent. "Thought so," he said laughing queerly. Save for a pair of old quilts and an old corduroy coat, the place was empty.
We've been going beneath the surface of things a little. Collie expects to go even deeper, so he tells me." Collie walked slowly toward the bunk-house. Halfway there he took Overland's check from the letter and studied it. He put it back into his pocket. As he passed the corrals, Apache nickered in a friendly way. "Haven't got a thing for you," said Collie. "Not a bite.
"We don't need them to remember you by," said Overland gallantly. Then the smile suddenly left his face. Down the Old Meadow Trail, unseen by the girl and the boy, rode a single horseman, and something at his hip glinted in the sun. Overland's hand went to his own hip. Then he shrugged his shoulders, and slowly recovered himself. "What's the use?" he muttered.
Marshall followed somewhat reluctantly. Stone disappeared to return with cigars, whiskey and seltzer, which he placed at Overland's elbow. "My friend Dr. Marshall is an Easterner," he said. Overland waved a comprehending hand, lit another cigar, and settled back. "Now I can take the hobbles off and talk nacheral. When you gents want me to stop, just say 'Guzzuh."
Williams was first to notice that Overland's speech was growing thick and that his free hand clasped the saddle-horn. The others, riding a little to the rear, burst suddenly into boisterous laughter. "What you think, Brand?" called Pars Long. "Bud's jest been countin' his fingers and he says there is one missin'. He ain't sure yet, but he's countin' hard.
Her pensiveness had departed. Her cheeks were flushed. "Oh, Collie! Saddle Boyar " she began, but Overland coughed disapprovingly. He did not wish Tenlow and Saunders to suspect that the led horse was for Louise. "Or no. Saddle Sarko," said Louise, at once aware of Overland's plan. "And have him at the foot of the hill for me as soon as you can." "Yes, Miss Louise."
And thus they rode across the log bridge over the creek into the village. The few men and women they met stared in wonder, and, recognizing Cleve, they grew excited. They followed, and others joined them. "Joan, won't it be strange if Uncle Bill really is the Overland of Alder Creek? We've packed out every pound of Overland's gold. Oh!
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