Nick lifted the bags gingerly, realizing that he held considerable wealth in his hands. When his pockets were filled, Allen took the rest.
“Suppose you get your bronc, now—I should of thought of that before,” Allen declared. “You get your bronc an’ meet me here. Then we’ll ride out to the flivver together. You got a gun? Yea, I see it. O. K!”
“Well, shall I take these things now?” Nick motioned to his pockets. “Wouldn’t it be better to leave ’em here till I get back?”
“Naw, take ’em along. You look honest enough.” Allen laughed, a trifle loudly. “I’ll wait here.”
Nick nodded, and left the tent. He felt uneasy with so much gold on him. But who knew he had it? Besides, there wasn’t any danger of a hold-up in broad daylight on the main street of the mining camp.
He reached the place where he had left his pony, and saw that the other broncos were already gone.
“Back to the shaft,” Nick thought. “The flivver is near there, so maybe I’ll meet ’em on the way.”
Allen was walking impatiently up and down before his tent when Nick returned. The puncher thought he detected relief on the big man’s face as he came into sight.
“Was he afraid I’d run away with the stuff?” Nick wondered. “Well, I can’t blame him for bein’ a bit nervous. I have about six thousand dollars’ worth of nuggets with me, I should say at a rough estimate.”
Allen mounted his own horse, and the two set out, side by side. They did not pass the miners, taking another route, with Allen leading. Nick wanted to ask him how he happened on the flivver, but he refrained. After all, it was none of his business.