But he had his merriment to himself. Van, feeling he had the company with him, sneered.
“Gee! that’s the worst ever,” he cried witheringly.
White spat out a chew of tobacco.
“I’d say you’re that bright you’d orter write comic Bible trac’s,” he declared.
But even in his failure as a humorist Joe Brand gave expression to the general opinion of the two men who, up till that time, had been accounted, to use a local expression, the “wisest guys west o’ Spawn City.”
Certainly, for the time being, the mighty had fallen, and their associates, in the persons of Sunny Oak, Toby Jenks and Sandy Joyce, had to stand by listening to remarks against their fellow Trust members which, though distinctly offensive, they yet, in justice, had to admit were perfectly warranted on the face of things. Even Scipio, mild little man as he was, had to endure considerable chaff, which worried and annoyed him, as to the way in which he had succeeded in bluffing so shrewd a “guy” as Wild Bill into purchasing half his claim.
But these things were only sidelights on the feelings of the moment. Expectancy was at fever-heat, and each and every man was wondering what was about to happen. For though their belief in Bill and Minky had received a jolt, long months of experience had sown in them an appreciation that took a power of uprooting.
The Monday and Tuesday passed without development of any sort. There were several conferences between the members of the Trust, but these were really only meetings at which the lesser members received more minute instructions for the carrying out of their duties on the Wednesday. No information otherwise was forthcoming for them from either Minky or the president, and all attempt to extort any was promptly nipped in the bud by the latter without the least compunction or courtesy.
Sandy resented this attitude. Sunny complained of the lack of confidence. But Toby sat back immensely enjoying the chagrin of his two friends, and cordially swore that both Minky and Bill knew a large-meshed sieve when they saw one.
Tuesday night was a memorable one on Suffering Creek. Never had there been such a gathering in Minky’s store; and his heart must have been rejoiced to see the manner in which so many of the dollars he had expended in the purchase of gold-dust came fluttering back to their nest in his till. The camp appeared to have made up its mind to an orgy of the finest brand. Drink flowed and overflowed. The store that night fairly swam in whisky. The flood set in the moment supper was finished, and from that time until two o’clock in the morning the lusty storekeeper never had a moment’s rest.