“Oh, well—” Pop moved uneasily. “I hadn’t heard what Jerry had to say then. An’, anyhow, we couldn’t afford to lose ’em all in a bunch. It gave ’em somethin’ to think about an’ slowed ’em up sufficient so’s we could get some new hands. Not that the ones we got are any wonders,” he added musingly. “But they’ll do, an’ they ain’t nuts over gold.”
“So there’s somethin’ to the story,” Bug Eye said slowly. “Nugget Camp ain’t just a basket full of fool’s gold.”
“Not any,” Pop said positively. “Jerry wouldn’t kid me about a thing like that. He believes in it all right. Twenty thousand gone!” Pop shook his head sadly. “I wish I had those galoots here for a minute and a half,” he declared bitterly. “A hole in the neck’s nothin’ to what they’d get. An’ say, Teddy an’ Roy, Jerry wants me to be sure an’ tell you how much he’s thankful for you two fellers bringin’ him in. If it hadn’t been for you he’d be pushin’ up the daisies right now. An’ then some!” Pop looked keenly at the brothers. He was at all times undemonstrative, and the boys took the look for what it was intended—the old puncher’s heartfelt thanks.
“Glad we were there,” Roy said. “But I’m sure sorry it happened. It means that a nasty bunch are getting into the district. Over at Nugget Camp—”
“Things will be spinnin’ out some lively,” Bug Eye drawled. “Well, there’s plenty to be done to-morrow. Me, I’m goin’ to catch some sleep.”
With a gold-mining camp springing up within riding distance of the X Bar X, the work of cutting out cattle for delivery seemed especially prosaic. But it had to be done, and, early the next morning, Teddy and Roy were in the saddle.
It was Mr. Manley’s idea to take one herd that had gathered near Harver’s Gully and round them up and drive them to the railroad yards. There were about six hundred head in the herd. Of these, about one hundred and fifty would be sent back to the range for one reason or another—some might have calves not yet weaned and some would not come up to specifications. It meant a good three or four days’ work, and Mr. Manley felt keenly the loss of his regular punchers.
Among the new hands were two who had more or less drifted in. They told Mr. Manley that they were out of a job—“temporarily.” Both looked to be real punchers, and Mr. Manley took them on. One of them, called “Silent” by his partner, was a surly, ill-tempered fellow, who continually wore a frown. He mixed not at all with the others and spoke only to his friend, and then in monosyllables. The nickname “Silent” fitted him like a glove.
Roy and Teddy found that he was especially antagonistic to them. He accepted their orders with a scowl, but as long as he did his work they said nothing. This was no time to be particular. They had to take what they could get, and be glad of it.
His partner was more friendly, and soon became one of the gang. He, also, did his work well, and to careful questions concerning “Silent” answered that “he was kinda queer.” In the West a man is taken at his face value, and if he wants to keep to himself, that’s his own affair. Silent and Jack Conroy were accepted as part of the X Bar X outfit. On the payroll Silent was down as Hap Neville.