It was not a prepossessing face that entered Jack Hamlin’s office one morning in Bodie, California.
“I say, young fellow, my name is Jim Slack, and I want ter talk ter you.”
“All right, go ahead, and I’ll try and be a cheerful listener,” responded Jack.
“I’m looking for a pardner and it struck me that you’d be the right feller for the job,” and the visitor tried to smile a persuasive smile, but the attempt was a failure. The scar which began at his ear and extended down to his throat was unbecoming, and his right ear which looked as if a bite had been taken from it gave his head a one-sided appearance. His eyes possessed a shifty, uncertain look, his beard was of a reddish hue and two weeks’ growth. His clothes were ragged, ill-fitting and dirty.
Fastidious Jack Hamlin took his visitor in at a glance and laughed.
“So, you’d like me for a partner, would you?”
“Yes, I heard as how you were a spikilator like, and I want ter give yer a chance ter git rich quick.” He continued, “I am the owner of some of the most valyable claims in the Lundy deestrict; I own the Sheepherder, the Dutchman, the Julia Lundy and some other valyable prospects. I want yer to grub stake me and one-half of all I own is yers.” Here the visitor gave Jack a furtive side glance, but presently looked away.
“So, I have the pleasure of talking to the honorable James Slack of whom I have heard so much and I am further honored by being invited to become his partner, for the mere pittance of a grub stake?” And Jack laughed a merry laugh which did not please Slack. “You are the man that has several scalps already attached to your belt and you’d probably like to add mine to the collection, eh?”
Jim Slack winced under these insinuations, but he was hungry and he diplomatically kept his temper.
“Those were all accidents and they never could prove it different,” sullenly replied Slack. “I did not come here to be joshed, but ter give yer a chance ter get rich quick.”