"Why not?"
"He wasn't thar."
"No," added Brill, "he wasn't no whar in sight."
"And the other folks, the black boy, the Chinee and the young Ute, Ulna, what came here with me an Mr. Willett and went back again when we was took prizners?"
"No one knows; they wasn't in sight."
"Drownded out!" gasped Hank.
"No, the folks think they tried to git away by swimmin' or making a raft," said Collins.
"They might as well try to fly. Ah, this is bad news; mighty bad news. I'd rather die mysel', and I know Mr. Willett would rather die a thousand times over than to lose that boy. Did you ever see young Sam Willett, gents?"
The partners shook their heads and said they never had seen young Sam Willett.
"Wa'al," continued Hank, with a sob in his voice, "he wasn't what you and me mout think a full-growed man, but never a braver nor a handsomer lad ever crossed them Sierras off thar to the east. He was a gentleman, young Sam was, from the ground up; he couldn't think anything mean, much less do it. Ah, why should men like you, and me, and others be left and him be took? I don't see how I can bring mysel' to tell his father, for he was all Mr. Willett had left, and he won't keer any more for life when he hears this."