“Right—you’re the doctor.” A mirthless grin twisted the thin lips. “I’ll be good. Listen, boy!” He took a deep breath. “Where’s my nugget?”
“Nugget!” Roy started back. “Is that what you—what nugget?” he asked blankly.
“My nugget! My nugget! The one I worked for, slaved for, fought for! Where is it?” The eyes were burning.
“I’m afraid—” Roy hesitated. “Say, what’s your name?”
“Decker. Jerry Decker. I’m a miner. I had a nugget with me that was worth—” He stopped. “Some smaller ones, too,” he continued in a toneless voice. The excitement seemed to drain his strength. “My nuggets—where are they?” he finished faintly.
Roy glanced down at him pityingly.
“Mr. Decker, your nuggets are gone,” he said slowly. “You’ve been robbed.”
“Robbed!” The word was wrung from him. “Robbed! The nuggets I worked for—slaved for! Worth—”
His eyes opened wide, his whole body tensed. Then, with a sigh, he relaxed. The eyes closed. The corners of the mouth went down.
“Watch it,” came a voice behind Roy. It was the doctor. “Get his arm out from under that blanket—quick!”