“Oh, she’s all burned up. Nothing left of her.”
“Good,” exclaimed Reade, passing over a fat roll of bills, “now, we can go ahead just as slowly as we like when we get to the mine at Calabazos. If we can file the claim to it it will be worth a lot more to us than winning the race.”
“Speaking of the mine,” put in Luther Barr, “where have you got Witherbee?”
“Right in the tonneau, guv’ner,” responded Wild Bill; “he made a lot of trouble and I had to give him a tap on the head to quiet him, but he’ll come to all right.”
“It’s just as well,” approved Luther Barr, “it will keep him quiet. Have you searched him yet?”
“No, not yet; we wanted to get out of town before those kids found out we’d swiped the auto. They can’t get after us in anything faster than an old buggy, and we’ll be far away by the time they pick up the trail.”
“Well, as you haven’t searched him, you might just as well leave him where he is till we get to the place. You know that we are not going to Pintoville.”
“Not going there, guv’ner!” echoed Wild Bill amazedly.
“No, I said we were at Pintoville for a blind. You never know who may be listening. Instead of going there we will make for White Willow. We’ve got the aeroplane there.”
“Say, guv’ner, you’re a smart one.”