“That don’t seem a thing to worry for,” McLagan said coldly. “Where did they hang him? What for?”
“Where? What for?” The banker shook his head. “They hanged him right here just beyond the town limits on the lakeside. What for? I haven’t a notion, unless it was a hold-up for his stuff. Here, you don’t get me——”
“It hasn’t been their way to hold a boy up for his stuff,” McLagan broke in quickly. “Was he coming in with a bunch of dust?”
The banker shook his head. He spread out a pair of helpless hands.
“I can’t say a thing,” he declared peevishly. “Here, I’ll tell you. Goodchurch came along this morning; he jumped in on me and I asked him things; he said he was guessing as badly as I was. One of his men come in and brought him word a feller was hanging under the spread of a Western Cedar, and was labelled by this precious bunch. Looked like he’d been hanging there days. He sent out to investigate and found it was this boy from the Lias, who’s been toting dust in since last fall. He asked me what I knew, and I told him of his credit here. He’s set a government ‘hold-up’ on it, and went off cursing these Aurora folk in a way I’d hate to repeat before a lady. I’m sick, I’m good an’ sick. I’m not worried for the boy. He was a sure tough, and I’d say he’s the sort to be a deal safer off the earth. But it’s the trade. It’s the stuff. He was reckoning to bring more along. Say, Mac, does it look good to you? I’ve heard you say you’d a hunch for these boys, setting out to clean things up. Well? Is this cleaning up? Or is it the thing I’ve been scared of right along—a hold-up?”
McLagan shook his head. His face was mask-like in its seriousness. Claire, watching him, felt at that moment she would have given much to read the thing passing behind it.
“You can’t rightly tell, Victor,” he said. “But I wouldn’t reckon that way without knowing more. There was sure something queer about that boy. And he was a tough, anyway.” Then he smiled, “It’s queer, here I bring you word of such wealth coming to Beacon as no gold can ever hand it. I’m showing you how to get in and help yourself, yet you’re worried for a bunch of dust that won’t be a circumstance in Beacon when we open out.”
He turned to the girl, who was regarding him so earnestly.
“You know, kid,” he said, “these men who handle gold can’t see a thing but gold. They just love it to death.”
He turned again to the banker.