“He don’t need me now,” the puncher from the 8 X 8 declared. “I might just as well go with you fellows. Say, I know what! My boss said I could take a vacation soon, an’ here’s where I take it! I was plannin’ to head for Nugget Camp myself, then when Mr. Ball heard from yore dad, Teddy, he asked me to fill in here, an’ of course I did. But things are easy—lettin’ up. So I can go, me an’ my Tin Lizzie! You wait!”
He ran toward the ranch house to interview Mr. Manley, and returned in five minutes with a broad grin on his face.
“O. K.,” he said loudly. “I’m with you! To-morrow mornin’ early I starts for the 8 X 8 to get an outfit.”
“Say, Bug Eye, while you’re there, ask Jerry Decker a few questions,” Roy suggested. “Where is a good place to locate, and so forth. He ought to know. He was at Nugget Camp nearly two years.”
“An’ get him to tell you how much fun gold minin’ is,” Pop, strolling up at that moment, said dryly. “Let him tell you about the picnic he had!”
“We’re not going for fun,” Teddy asserted. “Anyhow, Pop, you said there was a good chance to get some gold.”
“Oh, I ain’t goin’ back on that. Silent, here, knows somethin’ about minin’. Don’t you, Silent?”
The puncher nodded. “A little,” he said briefly. “I been on a few rushes.”
“Jack Conroy gonna stay here?” Pop asked.
“Yep.” Silent lit a cigarette. “I asked him to. The whole ranch can’t leave.”