“Come up to my camp,” chattered Reivers, eying the fist that contained the nuggets. He was anxious to get out of the bar. He had no fear that the primitive Moir would be able to see any flaw in his acting, but Black Pete and Jack Raftery were less primitive, and he knew that they had not quite accepted him for the weakling that he pretended to be. “Come and visit me. Buy a bottle of hooch and we go up to my camp.”
Moir tossed one of the nuggets across the bar to Raftery.
“Is’t good for a round, lad?” he laughed.
Raftery cunningly hefted the nugget and set out the bottles.
“Good for two,” he replied.
Moir tossed over the second nugget.
“Then that’s good for four,” said he. “Do ye boys drink it up while I’m away to tuh camp of old sonny here. A bottle, Raftery. Now, sonny, do thee lead on, and if I’m not satisfied I’ll wring thy neck to let thee know my displeasure.”
CHAPTER XXXIV—THE BARGAIN
Reivers led the way to his tepee and bade Moir wait a moment by the fire, while he spoke to Tillie. “Dress yourself and Neopa in your newest,” he commanded. “Then do you both come in to me, bringing food for two men.”
“What’s wrong, sonny?” laughed Moir, seeing Reivers come under the door flap alone. “Hast lost the whip over thy cattle?”