“Yes,” said Tom, dryly, “mountain rats are mighty fond of runnin’ about with prickly pears in their mouths, so we’ll say no more about it.”
Pike felt very uneasy about the matter. He didn’t like the way Tom was acting. After breakfast, when we were alone, he asked me if I didn’t think Tom would watch his opportunity and shoot him. When all had breakfasted it was concluded to scout out and prospect at a greater distance from camp than we had yet done. While some of us prospected the ravines others were to take the animals and go out into the hills to look for quartz ledges. Pike wished to go with the quartz-hunters, but had no animal to ride. To the surprise of all, and almost to the terror of Pike, Tom offered him his horse. Pike stammered his acceptance and turned away, looking very quiet. In passing off it fell out that Tom and myself were to prospect certain ravines. We dug a number of holes down to the bed-rock and washed and washed out many pans of earth, but a few small colors was all the gold we could find.
During the day Tom said:
“Do you know that was a villainous trick that Pike played me? To pretend, too, that he couldn’t get my boot off, when all the time he had hold about my ankle. Then to go and cut my boot!”
“But you told him to do that.”
“Yes, I know I did, for between you and me, I was awful scared. I thought I was gone in sure. I’d have bet my life on there being a scorpion in my boot.”
“Do you know that Pike thinks you intend to kill him?” said I.
“No. Is he such a fool as that?”
“You know men are killed in this country for more trifling things.”
“I don’t want to kill any man, but I do want to play even on Pike. It was mean on him to put that thing into my boot after we had shook hands down at the river.”