“All quite equal to the rich samples you handled here several months ago,” said Buell Hampton, as he waved his hand toward the accumulated treasure.
“Great Cæsar!” gasped Roderick. “There must be hundreds of thousands of dollars there.”
“The total will run into millions, young man,” smiled the Major. Then he closed the door, relocked it, and dropped the curtain. But he did not resume his seat.
“Now this is where your services, and those of Grant Jones will come in. This great wealth must be safely transported to Denver. And as I have already explained to you tonight, I still want to guard jealously my secret of the Hidden Valley on whose resources I may or may not draw again—this the future must decide. All of us who are interested have abundance for the present; we are equipped for many good works. The removal of this large quantity of ore, without attracting public attention here, requires good judgment on the part of men who can be absolutely trusted. You are the men selected for the responsible duty. And remember it will be dangerous duty should our secret leak out. The days of hold-ups are passing in the West, but have not yet passed; for as you both know there are still a good few desperadoes among the wilds of our Wyoming mountains.”
“My God—what loot!” murmured Roderick, glancing toward the curtain.
“Yes—a rich loot,” acquiesced the Major. “Now you young men will understand that your interests are my own—that while I am delighted to share this treasure with my chosen friends, these friends have been and continue to be quite indispensable to me. Roderick, your question earlier in the evening is answered—you will have a rightful share in this gold. Get ready in about a week’s time to earn it Now go tonight. I will see you later on to unfold my plans for the journey in closer detail.”
“Great guns,” groaned Grant Jones, as the two young men gained the roadway. “What a newspaper story—what a scoop! And not one damned word can be put in type.”