“You’re goin’ to stop with us awhile, aren’t you, Sink?” inquired Mr. Cook as they left the office.
“Might as well, I reckon. What’s up?”
Mr. Cook paused, looked first at Weston and then at Roy.
“Plenty adoin’,” he answered. “Glad to see both of you. I can use you right away. You recollect Lang Rury? Well, he’s been up on Montezuma Creek east of the Blue Mountains just this side of Abaja Peak ’bout two months. He’s got some copper ’at’s runnin’ fair an’ he’s got a patch o’ pine timber ’at’s worth more I reckon. But when Rury gets goin’ after copper, you can’t depend much on his judgment ’bout timber. If the timber’s all right, I want to buy it and run it down to the San Juan. You go and find out.”
Copper or cattle, timber or trailing were all alike to Weston. He was to start the next day, using a company horse and pack mule. Doolin was to return to Dolores with the two ponies and the wagon as soon as a load of freight accumulated. This meant cattle hides.
“Well,” said Roy, at last, as he and his companions came upon old Dan, who reclined comfortably in the shade of the wagon drawing on his pipe, “there it is. Shall we unload here?”
“Not much,” answered Mr. Cook, as he eyed the laden wagon with interest. “I’ve been gettin’ ready for you. Your headquarters are back of the office—that’s the Aeroplane Express depot.”
Doolin and Weston soon had the horses harnessed and before nine o’clock the creaking wagon was in position in the corral back of the Company office. In a shed at one side was stored grain and feed, for the Company issued supplies of this sort direct from headquarters. Mr. Cook had made a side excursion on the way back and secured Bluff’s only metal-worker—the camp horseshoer.
“Now,” said Roy, shaking hands with Chris. Hagerman, the mechanic, “I guess Chris. and Dan and I can begin work.”