The Indian looked puzzled at the long words used, but nodded. It was evident that he understood the general import of the other’s talk.
“The men I represent,” Toombs went on, “would throw a few dirty dollars into my lap for information which would bring them millions. Now my idea is to get the gold out and get away with it.”
“Say, Toombs,” Jimmie whispered to himself behind the rock, “you’re a dirty old schemer!”
“With the gold in our possession, we can disappear from the country, you and I. We need never trouble ourselves about money any more.”
The Indian nodded while a pleased smile came over his rugged face.
“How many know of this mine?” asked Toombs.
Sigma held up eight fingers and pointed into the pit.
“Only that many?” asked Toombs.
“The rest dead!” answered Sigma.
“And where are they now?” demanded the Wall street man.