"Then listen." Briefly, bluntly, Jack told the tale of his own father's death, how a man named Tusker Joe had entered into partnership with him at the mines, had picked a quarrel with him when gold dust in considerable quantity had been obtained, and, having shot him down in a saloon after the pretence of a quarrel, had decamped with all the gold.
"Then you ha' got good reason fer following this here scoundrel of a Tusker," cried Abe. "Reckon when a man's father aer shot down like that, the son has got ter have a say with his murderer. I ain't one as believes in revenge. Thar's One above"—the sunburned scout swept his hat from his head for a moment and paused—"thar's One above as sees ter sech matters as that as a general rule. But ef a father's killed in cold blood, it aer plainly the duty of his son ter find the murderer and hand him over to justice. Jack, give us yer fist. I'm proud ter know as ye've been a good son."
Each in turn gripped his hand, for rough scouts such as these were could and did appreciate fine qualities in other people. Already Jack's willingness to work, his unfailing good temper and his common sense, had won their esteem, while the tale of his behaviour when Steve was incapacitated had not failed to leave its impression on them. Believing that he had come to California with one object in view, and that to discover his father's murderer, they felt he was a man they could honour, though in years he had not reached man's estate. But Jack quickly undeceived them.
"Stop!" he cried peremptorily. "You are mistaken. I did not come to California to discover my father's murderer. It was another man I was thinking of. I came this way to escape the law; for, my friends, I am a runaway prisoner."
In a few words he told them of the misfortune which had befallen him, how he had been put on his trial, and how, despairing of obtaining evidence which would acquit him, he had bolted from the prison, with the object first of making himself secure from the officers of the law, and, when that was securely accomplished, with the firm determination of hunting for that man who had come to the smithy in Hopeville, and for whom he had forged that fatal key.
"Gentlemen," he cried, "that is the man I have been searching for, with the feeling all this while that some day or other I should drop across him. It was to clear myself from the accusation wrongly put upon me that I came to California, and at last I have seen the man. Strange though it may seem to you—almost unbelievable—yet it is the truth indeed. That ruffian who murdered my father is the identical man who, a few years later, induced me to forge a key, and for whose crime I was placed in the dock. I have double reason to follow and take him."
"Thunder!" shouted Steve.
"Ef that don't walk right away with the prize!" growled Abe, his teeth closing with a sharp click on the stem of his pipe.
"And ye've got as good cause, better still, ter shoot the ruffian when next yer set eyes on him," exclaimed Tom. "Jack, it aer clear as it aer fer you ter deal with this here Tusker Joe. Steve has a call, and he's already had an innings. Reckon it aer fer him ter stand back a while and let yer have a turn."
"No. I would not harm a hair of his head," responded Jack solemnly. "Listen here, mates. If I got to shooting this man, where, then, should I be able to obtain evidence of my own innocence? I should destroy it myself, and with that evidence goes all hope of my ever clearing myself, or of my being able at any time to return to Hopeville and the State of New York."