"Forgotten!" echoed Corbett. "Do you suppose I am likely to forget that Roberts risked his life for mine, and that Cruickshank took it—took it when the old man sat with his back to him, and his six-shooter hanging in a tree?"
"No, I don't suppose you would forget, Ned. When shall we start? Phon and myself could be ready to 'pull out' to-morrow."
"That would suit me, Steve, but I am afraid that you and Phon are embarking on a wild-goose chase. I don't believe in that creek of Pete's one bit more now than I did before I saw Lilla's map."
"That's all right, Ned; but you see Cruickshank believed in it, and so do we."
"Yes, Cruickshank believed in it, and in looking for the one we shall find the other. That is why I am going."
"I know all about that; but as long as we both want to find the same place, I don't see that it matters a row of beans why we want to find it," replied Steve. "And mind you," he added, "I would be just as glad to let a little daylight into Cruickshank as you would."
"Very well, if that is your way of looking at it, we need lose no more time. You are old enough to know your own business."
"That's what. How about a cayuse?"
"I bought one yesterday for a hundred dollars."
"A hundred dollars! Great Scott, what a price!"