Rascal though he might have been, we felt that we could not leave him there to the mercy of the wolves and coyotes, and after a long pause, Jack, who had been kneeling beside the body, rose up, and said:
“We must cover him up. We can’t dig a grave, having no tools, so the best thing we can do is to build a cairn over him. Tom, you and Percy go up into the timber and bring down some dead poles, the biggest you can carry, while Bates and I collect rocks.”
In the course of an hour of hard work we built a frame of timber around and over our dead enemy, covering it with such a great pile of heavy stones that we felt satisfied no wild animal could get at him. Then, feeling that we had done all that lay in our power, we saddled the horses—for we found the saddles and bridles piled near the fire—and rode back to our own camp, whence we made all haste to Bozeman, arriving there safely after dark that evening.
Our wanderings were ended. At last our faces were fairly turned toward home!
It was four weeks after this that we two stood upon the deck of a great steamship in the harbour of New York, shaking hands with Jack who had come across the continent with us to see us safely out of the country, as he said.
The value of our gold-washings, which Jack had sold to the smelter at Golconda, had proved to be considerably in excess of the calculation he had made on the waggon-sheet with the burnt stick. The sum he received was enough not only to start up the mine again, but enough to pay all the expenses of the trip, to buy our tickets back to England, and even to refund the money spent by our parents for the services of Mr. Hiram Jenkins. In fact, there was sufficient left over to buy a handsome, brass-mounted collar for our most respected friend Ulysses; that being, in our opinion, a more suitable present for him than the gold medal Percy had once promised him.
“Good-bye, you fellows!” cried Jack, shaking hands with us for the last time, as the bell rang for strangers to leave the ship. “Good-bye! You won’t forget me, I know; and you may be very sure I’ll never forget you. Next time you run away from home mind you run straight to Golconda. I’ll take charge of you. Good-bye!”
With that he turned and ran across the gang-plank. The big boat moved slowly out into the river, one last “Good-bye!” was shouted to and fro, and Jack’s kind, brown face was lost to sight.
We had experienced many hardships since the night when Percy climbed out of the window at Moseley’s, but the greatest of them all was the parting with Jack.
The night was drawing in, when, some twelve days later, a dog-cart rattled out of Southampton toward Moseley’s, and the old church clock in the village was striking eight as the cart pulled up at the vicarage gate. Percy and I descended from it, and having paid the driver, walked up the pathway to the house and entered without knocking.