"It's all quite simple," said Gardiner, after a pause. "Jim will hurry back to the ranch, saddle his horse, and follow us. By the way, I didn't tell him I borrowed his revolver. That may delay him some. But he should arrive at the shack in time to be taking a few stealthy observations just about the moment the Harrises are hunting for their money bag. I hope Allan doesn't use that shot-gun on him. A shot-gun makes an awful hole in a man, Riles."
Riles experienced an uncanny feeling up his spine.
"Well," continued Gardiner, "I promised to lay the whole plan before you, when we were safe on the road with no possibility of any strange ears cocked for what a man might happen to say…Look at that sunset, Riles; isn't that magnificent!"
"Good enough, I suppose," said Riles, "but I hope we didn't come out here to see the sunset. How about this plan of yours?"
"Riles," admonished Gardiner, "you've no more soul than a toadstool. You haven't any imagination. I wonder you have faith enough to wind your watch. Now if you could paint a picture like that it would make you more money than you ever saw—including what you're going to see to-night.
"But to get down to the scheme. It's all easy sailing now. The big thing was to get them on the road with the coin. That's what I needed you for, Riles. And you didn't do too bad. I had to prod you along a bit, but you'll thank me for it when it's all over."
"Yes, but it's them that's got it, not us," commented Riles.
"Sure, but it'll be different in the mornin'. Riles, you are a gloomy devil. Here you have ten thousand dollars right in your mit and you're as happy as a man with a boil. Now this is how it will work out, to a T. The two Harrises will get up to the shanty about dark. They'll pitch camp there and begin to wonder when we'll be along. Well, we won't be along until it's good and dark, even if we have to kill time on the road. If Travers catches up on us we'll just let him make one of the party, which will be sort of embarrassing for Jim. But he won't catch up. Well, when it's good and dark—there'll be no moon till after midnight—and they're both sleepy with their long drive in the high altitude, we will arrive near by. You will go up to the door and take a look on the quiet. I will go up to the window and do the same. There's no glass in the window, and there's no door on either, as I remember. We'll size up things inside, particularly the location of the coin. Then you show yourself. Tell 'em I have the owner of the mine out there in the trees, but the old fellow won't come in until he has a talk with them. Tell 'em they better not show the money until they chat with him a few minutes. Likely they'll fall for that, as they don't seem to have the slightest suspicion. But if they balk at leaving the money let them bring it along. Once out in the dark the rest will be easy. But I figure they'll leave the money in the shack—it's just for a few minutes, you know—and they'll reason that it's safe enough with no one but ourselves within miles. Well, you lead them off down through the bush. As soon as you do that I'll slip in through the window, gather up the long green and cache it somewhere in the scrub. You won't be able to find me at first, but when you do I'll say that the old fellow wanted to go up to the shack himself to meet them, and I let him go. Then we'll all go back to the shack, and find both the money and the old man—the mine-owner, you know—missing. Then we'll start a hue and cry and all hit into the bush. You and I will gather up the spoil and make a quiet get-away for the night. Of course we'll have to turn up in the morning to avert suspicion, but we can tell them we got on the robber's trail and followed it until we lost ourselves in the bush. In the meantime the Harrises will be tearing around in great excitement, and they're almost sure to run on to Travers. Harris recently fired Travers, and Allan had a fight with him, if you told me right, so it's not likely they'll listen to any explanations. They'll turn him over to the police, and as it's the business of the police to get convictions, they'll have to frame up a case against him or be made to look stupid—and that's the last thing a policeman likes. Then you and I will quietly divide the proceeds of our investment, and you can go back to your farm, if you like, and live to a ripe old age and get a write-up in the local paper when you shuffle off. As for me—I'm not that type, Riles, and I'll likely find some other way to spend my profits."
"It looks easy," Riles admitted. "But what about Jim? He'll tell what he heard you say at the ford."
"Let him. Nobody'll believe it. Remember that when he tells that he'll be under arrest, and when a man's under arrest his word is always discounted. To be arrested means to be half convicted. It takes two good witnesses to offset the moral effect of arrest, and Travers will have no witnesses.