“Why, what’s the matter?” joshed Wiley. “Why didn’t you deliver it? Did you get caught in a sandstorm, or what?”
“Yes, a sandstorm,” answered Charley, solemnly. “It came down the valley like a wall. And my burros got away; but the Colonel, he found me–I was digging a hole in the sand.”
“Say, where are these Ube-Hebes?” broke in Wiley impulsively. “I’d like to go over there some time.”
“They’re across Death Valley,” answered Charley smiling craftily, “–on the west side, in the Funeral 158Range. The Coffin mine is there–I used to work in it–but they put me underground with a stiff for a pardner so I quit and come back to town.”
“Yes, I heard about that; but you forgot something, Charley–how about that graveyard shift? But I’ll tell you what I’ll do, if you’ll take me to the Colonel I’ll help Virginia get back her mine.”
He plumped the statement at him, for Charley was an innocent who spoke out the truth when he was jumped, but for once he detected the ruse.
“The Colonel’s dead,” he answered sulkily and picked up his hat to go.
“I doubt it!” scoffed Wiley. “I met a man the other day who said he’d seen him–in the Ube-Hebes mountains.”
“He did?” exclaimed Charley, and then he drew back and his eyes flashed with angry resentment. “You’re a liar!” he burst out. “The Colonel is dead. He never said anything of the kind.”
“Yes, he did,” insisted Wiley, “and you know the man well. He’s got a little dog like Heine.”