“One third cash, and the rest in notes. The interest out here is rather high,” said Talbot regretfully.
“Where do you expect to get the money?” I insisted.
“Oh, money! money!” cried Talbot, throwing out his arms with a gesture of impatience. “The place is full of money. It’s pouring in from the mines, from the world outside. Money’s no trouble!”
He fell into an intent reverie, biting at his short moustache. I arose softly to my feet.
“Johnny,” said I, in a strangled little voice, “I’ve got to give back McGlynn’s change. Want to go with me?”
We tiptoed around the corner of the building, and fell into each other’s arms with shrieks of joy.
“Oh!” cried Johnny at last, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Money’s no trouble!”
After we had to some extent relieved our feelings we changed my gold slug into dust–I purchased a buckskin bag–and went to find McGlynn. Our way to his quarters led past the post-office, where a long queue of men still waited patiently and quietly in line. We stood for a few moments watching the demeanour of those who had received their mail, or who had been told there was nothing for them. Some of the latter were pathetic, and looked fairly dazed with grief and disappointment.
127The letters were passed through a small window let in the adobe of the wall; and the men filed on to the veranda at one end and off it at the other. The man distributing mail was a small, pompous, fat Englishman. I recognized McGlynn coming slowly down with the line, and paid him half the dust in my bag.
As McGlynn reached the window, the glass in it slammed shut, and the clerk thrust a card against it.