“Well, I 'll meet you—I'm a-goin' to trust you, Mr. Craig, an' when you see the vein, ef you think thar's enough money in it fer two—but we can see about that later.”
“All right, Baker. I 'll be there. But say,” as Pole was moving away, “you are a drinking man, and get a little off sometimes. You haven't said anything about this where anybody—”
Pole laughed reassuringly. “I never have been drunk enough to do that, Mr. Craig, an', what's more, I never will be.”
XXVI
BOUT noon that day, as Pole Baker sat on a fallen tree near the road-side in the loneliest spot of that rugged country, his horse grazing behind him, he saw Craig coming up the gradual incline from the creek. Pole stood up and caught the bridle-rein of his horse and muttered: