“Appears that it was,” dryly. “Do yuh remember—” Soapy jerked the team to a slow trot—“do yuh remember me tellin’ yuh once that I was the biggest ed fool I had ever met?”
“Yeah, I remember it,” grinned Brick, wiping some blood off his face.
“Well, I ain’t been improvin’,” stated Soapy bitterly. “That old gunnysack and that old rug was concealin’ the monthly payroll of the Red Hill mine.”
“Love of gosh!” exploded Brick. “The payroll? Why, Soapy, that must ’a’ been”
“Right dog-gone close to twenty-seven thousand dollars.”
Brick caressed his bruised face and tried to collect his thoughts.
“I’m smart,” said Soapy bitterly. “I was afraid to take a chance on the stage. Just one man, Brick; one man with a Winchester. He didn’t say much. By , I don’t think he said anythin’, come to think of it.
“The team swerved into the bank, after you fell out, and I stopped ’em. He motioned for me to get out—and I got. He made me unbuckle my belt and drop it. Then he walked past me, kicked the belt and gun along with him and lifted the sack out of the buckboard.
“It was a mighty heavy sack, Brick. The team got to fussin’ and I had my hands full with them. When I looked back, he was gone around the turn—and that’s all.”
“What did he look like?” asked Brick eagerly.