“Sure,” responded Bill absently.
“High finance?”
Bill nodded, with the ghost of a smile.
“A gang of rich guys,” he said. “They’re gathering at Spawn City for a financial descent on Suffering Creek. They’re all minin’ folk. Guess they’ll be yearning for a big game.”
“When’ll you git back?”
“Noon, day after to-morrow, maybe.”
Bill had turned away, and was abstractedly contemplating the strangers. Suddenly he turned again, and his steely eyes fixed themselves on the troubled Minky.
“Say, things is gettin’ on your nerves. It ain’t yet. Those folks is only lookin’ fer pointers.”
“An’ findin’ ’em?”
“Mebbe. But it takes time. Say, we ain’t dead in Suffering Creek yet. I’ll be around before––”