That was what Archie said aloud; but to himself he added: “You ought to have a guardian appointed for you, old as you are.”
The emigrant said nothing after this. The knowledge that he had harbored robbers in his camp for the last three days made a deep impression on him, and he gradually fell back beside the wagons, where he seemed resolved to remain. He wanted to keep a sharp eye on his treasure.
“That is the most simple thing that a grown person was ever guilty of,” said Archie, as soon as the old man was out of hearing. “Why couldn’t he keep still? I’ll tell you what’s a fact, fellows,” he added, after thinking a moment, “if there are any more men like Zack and Sile loose in this neighborhood, I’d rather be alone on the prairie than to stay with these wagons.”
“Do you think we shall see them again?” inquired Eugene.
“Do you suppose that men like those will let so much money slip through their fingers if they can help it?” asked Archie, in reply.
“More than a million dollars,” exclaimed Featherweight. “What shape is it in, I wonder?”
“If I had that amount of money, I’d travel in a little better style than he does,” said Eugene. “He and his family are all in rags, and his mules and oxen look like the breaking up of a hard winter. He’s an old miser.”
“He may have an object in it,” said Featherweight. “Perhaps he doesn’t want any one to suspect that he is worth so much.”
“Then why does he go and tell it?” demanded Eugene. “I wonder if it is in gold or silver!”