245CHAPTER XXVIII
PAROLE
“Mornin’, Denver,” said Bunker Hill, “here’s a letter that come for you–I forgot to send it down.”
He fumbled in his pocket and Denver’s heart stood still, but it was only his check from the smelter. He slipped it into his shirt without even glancing at the big total and looked up at Bunker expectantly.
“Well?” he prompted and Old Bunk twisted in the saddle before he began to talk.
“How much did you get for your shipment?” he inquired but Denver shrugged impatiently.
“What do I give a damn?” he demanded. “What’s up? What you got on your mind?”
“Big stuff,” replied Bunker, “but I want you to listen to me–they’s no use running off at the head.”
“Who’s running off at the head? Go on and shoot your wad. Is it something about my mine?”
“Yes–and mine,” answered Bunker. “I don’t know whether you know it, but your property apexes the Lost Burro. And another thing, silver has gone up. But Pinal is just as dead as it was a year ago. The whole camp is waiting on you.”