“Hungry!” Nick almost shouted. “I could eat a brass doorknob—in fact, two brass doorknobs. Let’s get goin’.”
Since the new arrivals had not yet set up cooking stoves, Gus lent them his, and during the preparation and eating of the meal they told Gus of their adventure of the first night.
“One man shot, you say?” the puncher asked interestedly. “Now, that’s queer. Nat told me a man was shot a couple of days ago up at Hagerman’s—that’s one of our beauty spots, where you can get a drink of poison by askin’ for liquor. He pulled somethin’ funny.”
“Well, we can’t say whether this bird was shot or not,” Nick declared. “He was hurt some way, though. Maybe he got tossed off his bronc.”
“What sort of place is this, Gus?” Teddy asked. “I mean shall we tote these things”—he motioned to the gun at his side—“or not?”
“Well, it’s the only kind of life insurance we got,” Gus drawled. “I’d sort of hang on to ’em, if I was you. An’ the first thing in the mornin’ you boys’d better stake yore claims. There’s more people comin’ in here every day. Tell you, the best place, to my notion, is about one hundred an’ ten above discovery. That’s a quarter of a mile from here. Not many fellers locate near there, but I got a hunch it’s due for a strike, even if it is far up.”
“We’ll try it,” Teddy agreed. “Have you a claim near there?”
“Yep. But that ain’t no proof there’s gold there, ’cause I haven’t made out so well yet. But you wait. I tell you I got a hunch, boys.”
The meal was concluded, and Teddy and Roy decided to take a walk around Nugget Camp, to get their bearings. Silent and Nick concentrated on a game of double solitaire.
“Well, we’re here,” Teddy remarked, as the two strode down the street.