"Where'd you get that at?" he demanded. "I've always got a pinch of change, I have. I'm lucky that way. Now then, you run along and don't never try to feint me into a clinch. It don't go."
Laughing Bill enjoyed a good rest in the days that followed. He rested hard for several weeks, and when he rested he lifted his hand to absolutely nothing. He was an expert idler, and with him indolence was but a form of suspended animation. In spite of himself, however, he was troubled by a problem; he was completely baffled by it, in fact, until, without warning and without conscious effort, the solution presented itself. Bill startled his cabin mate one day by the announcement that he intended to go prospecting.
"Nonsense!" said Thomas, when the first shock of surprise had passed.
"This country has been run over, and every inch is staked."
"I bet I'll horn in somewhere. All I want is one claim where I got room to sling myself."
"If that's all you want I'll give you a claim. It has twenty acres. Is that room enough?"
"Plenty. Where is it?"
"It's on Eclipse Creek, I believe. A patient gave it to me for a bill."
"He won't call for a new deal if I strike it rich?"
"No. I paid his fare out of the country. But why waste your valuable time? Your time is valuable, I presume?"
"Sure! I ain't got much left. You don't believe in hunches, do you? Well, I do. I've seen 'em come out. Look at Denny Slevin, for instance! I heard him say he had a hunch something unpleasant was going to happen to him, and it did. We'll go fifty-fifty on this Eclipse Creek."