“By gosh!” he said again when he had finished, “who’d a thought Jake’d go off like that!”
“Did you know him?” repeated Essex.
“Once up in the Sierra, when we was all mining up there.”
He spoke absently and sat looking into the fire for a moment, then said:
“It’s pretty tough luck to be whisked off that way when you just got everything in the palm of your hand.”
Essex made no reply, and after a pause he added:
“Between fifteen and twenty millions it says there,” indicating the paper, “and when I saw Jake Shackleton first you wouldn’t er hired him to sweep down the steps of The Trumpet office. But that was twenty-five years ago at least.”
“Oh, Shackleton was an able man. There’s no question about that. They were saying in the office to-night that twenty million is a conservative figure to put his money at.”
“Who does it go to? Do you know that?” queried the man by the fire.
“Widow and children, I suppose. There are two children. Don’t amount to anything, I believe.”