And at his words somehow a curious thoughtfulness fell upon his hearers. Nor was there any responsive smile among them. The humor he spoke of seemed to have passed them by, leaving them quite untouched by its point. And presently they drifted away, joining other groups, where the reminder that Bill had been derided by the whole camp for his absurd purchase had an equally damping effect.
But the day was to be more eventful even than the promise of the morning had suggested. And the second surprise came about noon.
Excitement was still raging. Half the camp was down at Zip’s claim watching the miracle of the oil gusher, and the other half was either on their way thither or returning from it. Some of them were gathering the raw oil in cans and tubs, others were hurrying to do so. And none of them quite knew why they were doing it, or what, if any, the use they could put the stuff to. They were probably inspired by the fact that there was the stuff going to waste by the hundreds of gallons, and they felt it incumbent upon them to save what they could. Anyway, it was difficult to tear themselves away from the fascinations of Nature’s prodigal outburst, and so, as being the easiest and most pleasurable course, they abandoned themselves to it.
So it was that Minky found his store deserted. He lounged idly out on to the veranda and propped himself against one of the posts. And, standing there, his thoughtful eyes roamed, subtly attracted to the spot where Zip’s luck had demonstrated itself.
He stood there for some time watching the hurrying figures of the miners as they moved to and fro, but his mind was far away. Somehow Zip’s luck, in spite of the excessive figures which extravagant minds had estimated it at, only took second place with him. He was thinking of the man who had journeyed to Spawn City. He was worrying about him, his one and only friend.
He had understood something of that self-imposed task which the gambler had undertaken, though its full significance had never quite been his. Now he felt that in some way he was responsible. Now he felt that the journey should never have been taken. He felt that he should have refused to ship his gold. And yet he knew full well that his refusal would have been quite useless. Wild Bill was a man whom opposition only drove the harder, and he would have contrived a means of carrying out his purpose, no matter what barred his way.
However, even with this assurance he still felt uncomfortably regretful. His responsibility was no less, and for the life of him he could not rise to enthusiasm over this luck of Scipio’s. It would have been different if Bill had been there to discuss the matter with him.
And as the moments passed his spirits fell lower and lower, until at last a great depression weighed him down.
It was in the midst of this depression, when, for the hundredth time, he had wished that his friend had never started out on his wild enterprise, that he suddenly found himself staring out across the river at the Spawn City trail. He stared for some moments, scarcely comprehending that at which he looked. Then suddenly he became aware of a horseman racing down the slope towards the river, and in a moment mind and body were alert, and he stood waiting.