“There’s a bird you ought to know!” he exclaimed suddenly, pointing. “See if he remembers you. Hey, Maryland!”
“Howdy, Gus! How they comin’?” Maryland looked straight at Roy and Teddy with no sign of recognition.
“Forgot you completely,” Gus chuckled. “It’s easy to figger how he was feelin’ last night. Don’t hold it against him, boys. When he’s sober he’s O.K. Trouble with Maryland is, he can’t control his thirst.”
“Just what I said,” Teddy asserted. “Or Roy said it, or somebody.”
“Sure, we’ll forget it ever happened,” said Roy. “We knew he was pretty well under the weather. Say, Gus, where is that claim of yours?”
“There she is,” Gus answered proudly, pointing. “See her?”
A short distance away, at the foot of a small hill, was a well-worked plot of ground. Four piles of stones were its boundaries. Near the center a stick of wood was driven in the ground, a paper nailed to the top.
“What’s she say?” Nick demanded.
“This claim located and filed by Gus Tripp—me—August twenty-second,” was the reply. “It’s about the only claim this far up except Maryland’s. That’s his over there.”
“What’s he do, stick a shovel into it every so often?” Silent asked.