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Updated: June 25, 2025
If it's a lie, then you lied first, so don't blame me." Curly's only response was to raise his revolver and fire. But Samson's hand struck the weapon in time to divert the aim, and no harm was done. "Thar, that's enough of sich nonsense." The old prospector's voice was more than usually stern. "I'm not goin' to stand here an' see a man shot down in cold blood by the likes of you, Curly.
"How shall I know if I have payable gold so as to save time and trouble in sinking?" says the novice. Truly it is a most important part of the prospector's art, whether he be searching for alluvial or reef gold, stream or lode tin, copper, or other valuable metal. I presume you know gold when you see it?
The ground sloped slightly in that direction, and the combatants rolled over and over to the very edge of the cliff, where the Indian, for the first time realizing that the prospector's purpose was to hurl both of them to destruction, loosened his hold upon the prospector's throat that he might use his hands to brace himself against the otherwise inevitable plunge into the valley below.
A few of them came up to ask questions, and one, a grizzled old fellow who might have posed as "One-eyed Ike" in Western melodramas, stopped to talk a while. "You boys shore have struck it big," he commented. "How come?" We explained briefly the finding of the unoccupied ground and the taking of the average Cripple Creek prospector's chance, and he nodded sagely.
We suspicion that Cartwell, that educated Injun, has stole her. We're trying to find his trail. Can you give us a hunch?" The sleepy look left the prospector's eyes. He crossed the rocks to put a hand on Billy's pommel. "Gee! Ain't that ungodly!" he exclaimed. "I ain't seen a soul. But night before last I heard a screaming in my sleep. It woke me up but when I got out here I couldn't hear a thing.
From time to time, as had become my habit, I roused enough to feed the fire; then quickly dropped off to sleep again. Just when, I am not sure, but I think about midnight, I awoke with a strange feeling that an unseen presence was in the room. The prospector's warning came to me vaguely, and I tried to rouse up to listen, but I dropped back to sleep almost immediately.
They were seated together on a bench at the time, and Frederic, having lighted a cigar, drew deeply as though he hoped to gather inspiration. Then he edged closer and, dropping his heavy hand on the little prospector's shoulder, said thickly: "See here, tell me this, as man to man, if you found both those tracts too big to handle, what would you take for your option on the Weatherbee property?"
Frontier Samson was sitting before an open fire as Glen and Reynolds entered. The flames were licking around the big sticks, lighting up the room, and playing fantastic tricks upon the walls and ceiling. They fell, too, upon the prospector's face, and had not the young couple been so full of their own happiness they would have noticed the sad, far-away look in the old man's eyes.
Gale wanted to rush down the slope, down into the valley, and tell his wonderful news. Suddenly his eyes cleared and he saw the pile of stones. His blood turned to ice, then to fire. That was the mark of a prospector's claim. But it was old, very old. The ledge had never been worked, the slope was wild. There was not another single indication that a prospector had ever been there.
And he knew, and Wunpost knew, that the thing which irked him most was that sure-fire Prospector's Contract. There Eells had the high card and if he played his hand well he might tame this impassioned young orator. His lawyer was not yet retained, none of the suits had been brought, and perhaps they never would be brought. Yet undoubtedly Wunpost had consulted some attorney.
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