“Yes; can I come in?” Buffalo Bill answered.
Juniper Joe flung the door open, and invited him in.
The big room which had witnessed the “jubilee” was unoccupied, save by Juniper Joe and the scout.
“Your wife is not in?” the scout asked.
“She’s downtown somewhar, gittin’ acquainted with the Blossom Range ladies; she allowed, seein’ that she was mightily int’rested in society back East, that it was goin’ to be plum lonely fer her hyer if she didn’t stir up some women to talk to; so she sailed out, and has been workin’ hard at it the better part of the day.”
Juniper Joe had discarded his black broadcloth and shiny cady for a miner’s working suit and a soft, clay-stained hat.
“Been pokin’ about in my mine,” he explained. “Struck another rich pocket, too!” He beamed. “Allow me to show you some o’ the nuggets I got out of it.”
He went into the other room, and brought out some nuggets—a handful of them.
“Beauties, ain’t they?” he said, as the scout inspected them. “Struck the pocket this mornin’, soon after I come back frum the express office, an’ have been gopherin’ round it ever sense. If things keeps up this way, I’ll have another shipment to make in a week er so; but, by jings, I don’t let the Wells Fargo handle it!”
“They fell down pretty badly on that last job.”