“He stole my gold, that’s what he done!”
“Bah!”
Contained in the exclamation was all the contempt that Bug Eye could give it.
“Nick never stole nothin’. I don’t know what the game is, but—”
“It’s blackmail, Bug Eye,” Nick said quietly. “Allen thinks he’s got me for stealin’ gold that he never had. Says if I get ten thousand bucks from Teddy or Roy or from the boss, he’ll call it off.”
“Ten thousand bucks!”
“Well, there was that much gold in the bags he had!” Allen said defiantly. “If I don’t get the gold, I want the money!”
“Uh-huh.” Bug Eye regarded Allen silently. Suddenly he grinned.
“Nick,” he said, “slide down an’ pick up the gun this here waddie just dropped. I notice you lost yourn. Then, my lad, we’ll take a little ride. Allen, you ride ahead. We’ll see what the rest have to say to this! No, not toward camp—over to little ole One Hundred an’ Eleven! The boys are waitin’ there. To the left, Allen. We’ll have a debate on this here subject!”
Bug Eye had ridden toward his flivver to see if he had left anything of value in the car, telling those at the mine he would be back in half an hour. He kept to his word—he was back within the time set and with him rode Nick and Allen, the latter under surveillance of Bug Eye’s gun.