“One of these is addressed to you, Buffalo Bill,” said he, “and the other is addressed to me. Perhaps they will shed a little light on the situation.”
Buffalo Bill took the paper the gambler handed to him, opened it, read it through, and then laughed.
“What’s et erbout, pard?” asked Nomad.
“Listen,” said the scout, and read aloud: “‘You may think you’ve downed me, Buffalo Bill, but you have another guess coming. I am giving you a deed to the Forty Thieves Mine. The mine is no good. We both know that. So the deed is not given to you from any desire on my part to tender you a token of my esteem. The gift is a dare. Gentleman Jim is to hold the deed, and give it to you only after you have passed three consecutive days and nights in the Forty Thieves Mine. Gentleman Jim, I know by report, is a square gambler. He will see to it that my conditions are faithfully executed. After you have passed three consecutive days and nights in the mine, you are to go to Gentleman Jim and get the deed, making the transfer legal by filing the deed for record in Montegordo—that is, if you consider a worthless mine worth bothering with to that extent. Take your pards, or as many more men as you wish, with you into the mine—but you must stay there for three consecutive days and nights. That will be all. If you live to claim the deed you are welcome to it. Where’s your nerve?’”
Buffalo Bill, with a queer smile playing about the corners of his mouth, refolded the paper and stowed it carefully away in his pocket.
“Of course,” he remarked, “Lawless thinks he has a trap laid for me in the Forty Thieves.”
“He’s got something up his sleeve, all right,” agreed Wild Bill, “but if he thinks you haven’t got the nerve to hang out in that mine for three days and nights, why, he’s wide of his trail, that’s all.”
“Ther mine’s wuth ther risk,” said Nomad.
“I’m not thinking so much about the mine, Nick,” went on the scout, “as I am about the chance this fool proposition of Lawless’ gives me to lay alongside of him. That villain ought to have his claws clipped, and I reckon I and my pards are the ones to do it.”
A vociferous affirmative came from Nomad, Wild Bill, Little Cayuse, and Dell.