When they approached the mine, Teddy and Roy were erecting a makeshift windlass that Silent had constructed. They looked up in surprise as they saw Bug Eye with his gun out.
“What’s the trouble, Bug Eye?” Teddy called.
“Well, it’s a long story,” the puncher replied. “You, Allen, slide off that bronc!”
Muttering to himself, the man obeyed. Things were not shaping up as he had expected.
“Now, boys, we’ll have that debate,” Bug Eye said smoothly. “Gather ’round, gents, an’ listen to a tale. Hey, Gus! You might as well be in on this too.” He waited until Gus came up, his eyes wide with wonder. Bug Eye and Nick were off their ponies, standing before Allen.
“Nick, suppose you start the proceedings,” Bug Eye suggested. “Make it short an’ snappy.”
“I will.” Nick jerked his thumb toward Allen. “This here hombre, boys, claims I stole the gold he said he gave me. We went to his tent, an’ I put some bags in my pocket. Then he asked me to get my bronc, which I did, an’ we rode over to the flivver. When we gets there he pulls his gun, shows me there’s rock in the bags I had, and claims I grabbed his nuggets. Reckon that’s about all.”
“When I came up he was talkin’ about hangin’,” Bug Eye said gently. “Hangin’, Roy. Nice, pleasant word, ain’t it?”
“By golly, you’ll see how pleasant it is!” Allen flared. “This feller stole my gold, ten thousand dollars’ worth, an’ I want it back or the cash for it! You waddies think you’re pretty great, don’t you? Well, by golly, I’ll—”
“You’ll do nothing, and little of that,” Roy broke in quietly. “Nick, did you see any gold in the bags you took?”