“Well, there Grandfather was, helpless. It made him kind of proud and bitter, and he sort of held himself away from folks. But he was disappointed because my father was sickly and didn’t take to anything outdoors, and I never met him face to face, or spoke a word to him, until the night before he died. Of course nobody dreamed he was going—I don’t think he did, or Johnny, even.
“At any rate, he sent for me. And he said I was all King, and he had waited to make sure. He talked a little and gave me his old diary and an old Bible his mother had given him. He told me to read the Bible—that there was a lot in it, if I read it carefully. It was the last talk I had with him. He died in the night.
“Well, the point I’m getting at is this: Grandfather had a secret—about a mine out here. He had it all described, in a kind of code that sure had me guessing blind for awhile. I found a long list of Bible references, you see—no one would ever think of wading through the bunch, unless it was a preacher, maybe; and he wouldn’t need to. It took me a while to catch on to the fact that they meant something. Grandfather, you must know, wasn’t religious. Anything but. So the crux of the matter was those references looked so darned dry and innocent, and they were the only thing I could find to work on. Johnny, there, made it mighty plain to me that I’d better work on something. I tried Poe’s cipher, and I looked up all the references. I will say that just reading verse after verse, according to the references, they make snappy reading; murder and bloodshed and bigamy and the wrath of God. And names I couldn’t pronounce, of tribes headed out on the warpath. It was great stuff—not.
“But finally I dug into the little old Bible Grandfather had carried around with him—and hadn’t read, or the book’s a liar—and I got this. I want to read it to you: I dug it out by writing down words and phrases in all the verses, that Grandfather had marked. I’ll read it as if it were altogether—which it wasn’t, by a long shot:
“Gold is mine, more than heart could wish. My son, if thou wilt receive my words and hide my commandments with thee, I will give thee riches, and wealth, such as none of the Kings have had that have been before thee. Be wise, now, therefore, be instructed. Of the gold, there is no number. The land whither ye go to possess it is a land of hills and valleys.
“Do this, now, my son. Go through a city which is by the river in the wilderness, yet making many rich. In the midst thereof a ferry-boat which is by the brink of the river. Take victuals with you for the journey. Turn you northward into the wilderness, to a great and high mountain; cedar trees in abundance scattered over the face of the high mountain. In the cliffs there is a path which no fowl knoweth, and which the vulture’s eye hath not seen. Come to the top of the mount. Pass over unto the other side, westward. On the hillside, a very great heap of stones joined to a dry tree. Go into the clefts of the rocks, into the tops of the jagged rocks, to the sides of the pit. Take heed, now—that is exceeding deep. It is hid from the eyes of all living. Creep into the midst thereof, eastward, two hundred and fourscore feet. Ye shall find a pure river of water. Proceed no further. There is gold heavier than the sand; pure gold upon the sand. And all the gold thou shalt take up. Then shalt thou prosper if thou takest heed. I know thy poverty, but thou art rich.
“Take heed, now. On the hillside which is upon the bank of the river in the wilderness, there shall the vultures also be gathered. Ye shall find him that is mine enemy. His mouth is full of cursing, under his tongue is mischief and vanity. Be watchful—the heart is desperately wicked.
“He that keepeth his mouth, keepeth his life. I put my trust in thee. Now, my son, the Lord be with thee and prosper thou.”
Rawley folded the paper, looking up under his bandaged brows at Uncle Peter, and sending a glance past him to the unreadable face of Johnny Buffalo.
“So that’s what I dug out of his Bible. He meant it for his son. He told me so himself. But he said my dad wasn’t the man to get anything out of it—which was true. When he passed it on to me, he—he didn’t know he had another son who could make good on the proposition. It’s yours, by rights. He just gave it to me because he didn’t know of any one else. And—all I ask, Uncle Peter, is that you make some kind of provision for Johnny, over there. I told him we’d go fifty-fifty, and—” he held out the folded paper to Peter—“Johnny’s been hands and feet and a loyal friend to Grandfather, all these years. Fifty. Just think of that, Uncle Peter. Grandfather didn’t have anything but his pension—and this. He didn’t say so, but I know he expected me to look after Johnny. I will, of course. I can make good money at my profession. And I want to say, Uncle Peter,” he added boyishly, “that I’m mighty glad Grandfather left something—for his son.”
Rawley lay back with a relieved sigh and watched Peter, his eyes smiling a little. He did not think that he had done any unusual thing. Peter was exactly the kind of son whom Grandfather King had longed for, all these years. Rawley guessed that Peter, too, had been defrauded of the father he would have worshiped. It was a foregone conclusion that, had Grandfather King known Peter, he would have sent him, long ago, hunting for the mine. And while Peter had not said so, Rawley guessed shrewdly that Peter did not greatly admire Jess Cramer, in spite of the fact that he had believed the man his father. His nightmare thoughts, that he had somehow defrauded Peter, were wiped out once for all. The code had been written for the son of King, of the Mounted. The son had it. No more was to be said.
Peter opened the paper and read it through slowly, a corner of his lip drawn between his teeth. What he thought, no man could say. He finished the reading and folded the paper slowly, looking at Rawley afterward from under his heavy brows.
“Have you still got the Bible and the references?” he asked.