“I guess that we’ll shake on that. The mounted police haven’t forgotten the incident. Time and time again, before a crackling fire, when we happened to meet on patrol, Sergeant Richardson entertained me with the history of your exploits.”
“We had a lot of trouble with the Henderson gang,” stated Dick.
“So I heard. Fortunately they’re wiped out. They were the worst band of outlaws that ever infested the North. By the way, what ever became of that young Indian lad, Toma, who used to accompany you on so many of your expeditions?”
“He’s out with Sandy right now on a hunting trip,” Dick replied. “I’m expecting them back today.”
Murky Nichols rose lazily, yawned, and stretched himself to his full length.
“Well, I guess I’ll toddle along,” he announced. “Hope yuh find that pass, corporal.”
With a friendly nod to Dick in passing, Nichols strode over to the counter before which a small group of half-breed men, women and children chatted volubly.
No sooner had the prospector passed out of hearing, than Rand turned eagerly to Dick:
“Ever meet Murky before?”
“No,” answered Dick in surprise, “but I’ve heard of him.”