“Not any, Roy. I never opened ’em. First time I seed what was in ’em was when this bird opens one, and shows me some stones. That’s all I know about it.”
“How can you prove there was gold in ’em?” Teddy demanded.
“’Cause the ones I carried still have gold in ’em, for one way! How come he happened to pick the only bags that had rock, like he says?”
“When I went to get my bronc,” Nick said, “Allen threw out the rock from the bags he had an’ put some gold in, enough to make it look real. When I took the bags there was stones in all of ’em.”
“Think you’ll make the boys at camp believe that?” Allen sneered. “Likely I’d ask you to help me carry a load of stones, ain’t it?”
“That’s what you done!” Nick exclaimed hotly. “You framed me, that’s what! But you won’t get away with it!”
“You want to go before a jury of miners with that story?” Roy asked. Silent, while all this was going on, regarded Allen carefully.
“Either that or ten thousand bucks! If this bird don’t get me back my gold, he’s got to get the cash. An’ he knows where he can get it, too.”
“He means from your dad, Roy. He thinks he’d give the money to save me from hangin’.”
“He would, as far as that goes,” Teddy declared. “You know that, Nick. But let’s talk this thing out. Allen, you don’t really think you have a chance to succeed with this plan of yours, do you?”