"If they ever do," said John. "G' night, Mr. Baines. I'm mighty oneasy in my mind."
Scattergood turned the subject back at once to mining stocks.
"You set me down for five thousand dollars. Don't let nobody else have it. Got jest that sum comin' due tomorrer. You and me'll drive over to git it, and you fetch them stock certificates along. Got 'em in that little satchel you're always carryin'?"
"No," smiled Mr. Bowman. "That's my purse. I take no chances on robbers, like your express agent spoke of. I don't mind telling you that I have fifteen thousand dollars in that bag—and I intend to keep it there."
"Do tell!" exclaimed Scattergood. "Wa-al, you know your business. Now, then, if you want to drive over six mile with me to-morrer, well git us that money and I'll take the stock."
"Good," said Mr. Bowman. "An early start. Can I take a train from there? I'll be through here, I think."
"To be sure," said Scattergood. "Mighty funny thing about that gold, now wa'n't it? Three bars. Wuth fifty thousand! Mighty slick work—to spirit it off and nobody never find a trace."
"The criminal classes," said Mr. Bowman, "have produced some remarkable intellects. Good night, Mr. Baines."
"See you early in the mornin'," replied Scattergood.
After a breakfast which Mr. Bowman watched Scattergood dispose of with admiration and astonishment, the pair entered the old buggy and started across the hills. In addition to his small bag Mr. Bowman brought a large suitcase containing his apparel, so it was apparent he was leaving the county seat for good. The morning came off hot and humid. Scattergood kept his eyes open for a spring, but it was not until they had driven some miles that an opportunity to find water appeared.