“Look here, Morgan,” said Bates, presently. “This plan of yours” (Percy wondered what the plan might be) “is all very fine and ingenious; but before we can put it into practice we’ve got to find the boys; not such an easy thing, it seems to me, in this wide-open country.”
“You’re right enough there,” replied Squeaky. “But if we don’t run across them accidentally I know a way of catching them, sure.”
“How’s that?” inquired Bates.
“We know they’re bound for Montana, don’t we? Found that out in Golconda. Just now they may be before us, or behind us, or on either side of us, and if we waste time prospecting around this neighbourhood after them they may get clean away from us. Now, as far as I’m concerned, I’d just as soon go to Montana as anywhere else,—I’ve been there before, and I know the country,—and my scheme is to go straight ahead and ride along the stage-road until we come to the Snake River bridge, and if they haven’t gone by, to sit down there and wait for them. If they want to get to Montana they’ve got to cross the Snake, and if they cross the Snake they’ve got to go by the bridge; it’s too dangerous fording the river at this time of year when the snow is melting in the mountains. She’s a pretty fierce old river, is the Snake.”
“But,” Bates objected once more, “supposing they don’t come to the bridge at all. Supposing they do manage to get across the river somehow. What are we going to do then? The money I have left won’t last very long.”
“We’ll wait for them at the bridge a week,” replied Squeaky, “and if they don’t come we’ll go on to Montana. As to the money, there’s ways of making money. There’s the cards. I know all the tricks in that line, and I can teach you. Then there’s mining-deals,—that’s a good notion. That’s got to be thought about. Here’s you, a rich young Englishman, looking for an investment; and here’s me, the honest miner—yes, that’s got to be thought about. Then there’s stage-coaches to be held up,—that’s a bit risky; and so is running off horses. But a man must live, and if we’ve got to do it, we’ve got to, and that’s all there is about it.”
It did not seem to occur to this honest citizen, or to Bates either, for that matter, that there was yet another way of getting money,—by working for it.
By this time the pair had finished their breakfast, and having collected their few belongings they saddled up—Percy making himself as flat as possible during the operation—and rode away.
As soon as they were safely out of sight, our scout rose to his feet and walked back to where Jack was stationed, and together they returned to the spot where I stood impatiently awaiting them.
“Well,” said our captain, when he had heard Percy’s report, “your friend Bates seems to have gotten into nice company. That is a smart fellow, that squeaky-voiced scoundrel; he guessed our plans pretty well. My original intention was to ride up the stage-road from Corinne to the town of Bozeman, in Montana; but now that we know their scheme we’ll just make a change in our own plan. They will wait for us a long time before they catch us at the bridge; we won’t go near it; we’ll go straight northward across country, leaving the road well away to our left. That fellow is right in saying that the Snake is a difficult river to cross; but we’ll find a way over somehow, never fear, even if we have to go up-stream until we get around its little end. By taking this course we shall give them the slip altogether; they will have no means of knowing what has become of us. All the same,” Jack added, impressively, “it will be well to keep our eyes open. Mr. Morgan, I suspect, would not stick at shooting any or all of us if it suited his purpose to do so. So, remember,—if you meet a short, square-built, red-haired man, with a broken nose, cock your rifle, and don’t let him get behind you. All aboard!”