“Yes.”
“I got a little dust in there,” Pete said, jerking his head toward a cupboard. “Stuff I’ve picked up here and there in the pockets, pay dirt that had dropped out of some of the old cleanups. It’s enough for what we’ll want.”
“How can you get on the property?” I asked him.
“That’s a cinch. They’ve been trying to get me to work ever since they started. They don’t know too much about handling the job.”
“You don’t dare to have values start running up just before you go to work. It would be too much of a coincidence,” I warned.
“Leave that to me, brother. I’m going down there tonight in the moonlight an’ take a marlinspike, an’ salt a bunch of gold in that drill rope. Their values’ll start pickin’ up tomorrow. I think that drill rope’s all I’m goin’ to need.”
I said, “Keep it up until I tell you to stop.”
“How’ll you tell me?”
“When you get a postal card signed ‘D.L.’ saying, ‘Having a wonderful time. Wish you were here,’ you’ll know it’s time to quit.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll get started in about half an hour.”