OFF TO NUGGET CAMP
That evening the sole topic of conversation on the X Bar X was the
intended trip to Nugget Camp.
Strangely enough, the fact that Teddy and Roy and a few others were
going did not tend to excite the rest of the punchers, or cause them to
throw up their jobs and head for the gold fields. They felt, perhaps,
that good jobs did not grow on every sagebush, and the reputation of the
X Bar X ranch for fair treatment of the hands and for excellent food was
known far and wide. Most of the new men decided to stay on, and let
those who would test their luck in other lands.
Jack Conroy, when he learned that his partner, Silent, was going, at
first declared his intention of accompanying him. But Silent took him to
one side, and the result of the conference was that Jack remained at the
ranch.
Pop, as garrulous as ever, spent the evening in telling those who would
listen of the many times he had participated in gold rushes.
“Course, I knew more about it than most of them waddies,” he would say.
“An’ as soon as I see those funny specks of yeller stuff I’d tell ’em to
locate there. You bet they did, too.” He would hesitate a moment, and,
reaching back, would tap the bunk-house wall. “Some of the rock was as
soft as this wood. Softer, some of it.”
“And they found the gold?”
“Well, they did an’ they didn’t. I mind one time--”
But this was too much for his audience. It was the fourth time he had
let loose that “Well, they did an’ they didn’t.” The punchers felt
justified in ringing down the curtain, which they did by the simple
process of tipping over the bench Pop was sitting on.
Teddy and Roy, who had been listening, wandered toward the house.
“I kind of wish he was coming with us,” Teddy chuckled. “Make it a
little livelier.”
“He’ll be better on the ranch,” Roy replied. “Dad wants some one he can
depend on. Boy, it sure is a grand and glorious feeling to know we’re
going to take a crack at gold mining! And something tells me we’re going
to be successful, too! Well, let’s see now--a house on Fifth Avenue, New
York, a winter place in Florida, a shooting box in Canada for the fall
months, a château in France, a--”
“Hey, how many seasons you think the year’s got?”
“Oh, well, personally, I’m going to live right here all year,” Roy said
simply. “I just want those things, in case.”
“Uh-huh,” Teddy grunted. “You find the gold first. Baby, I’m tired!
Let’s hit the hay. We have plenty to do to-morrow.”
In truth, there was “plenty to do” before the young prospectors could
start for Nugget Camp. Bug Eye left early for the 8 X 8, and arranged to
meet the others at the new strike within four days. Then Teddy and Roy
began their preparations.
There were four of them from the X Bar X going--Teddy and Roy Manley,
Nick Looker, and Silent Neville. Silent, who had been mining before, was
called into consultation.
“Besides the broncs, we’ll need, say, three mules,” he declared. “That’s
for our packs an’ stuff.”
“Going to take sluice-boxes?” Nick asked. Sluice-boxes are troughs, in
sections twelve feet long, with screens and retaining cleats over which
the gold-bearing material is worked by means of a constantly flowing
stream of water.
“No. Not necessary. We can make them when we get there. What we need
most are shovels, picks, pans, a few saws, some canned stuff, blankets,
lanterns, and--say, what sort of a district is this Nugget Camp? Any
timber around? Any water?” Silent inquired.
“Both,” Nick answered. “I rode through the place about eight months
ago.”
“O.K. Then that’s settled. Now, how about sleeping? You got any tents?”
“Dad’s got two, I think,” Roy declared. “But they’re not so new.”
“They’ll do, I reckon. Two is better than one big one--easier to put up
an’ better sleepin’. Long as we’re takin’ tents, we might as well cart a
few folding cots.”
“I bet Dad’s got cots some place around,” Teddy asserted. “He used to do
a lot of camping.”
“Then I reckon we’re all fixed up. Where can we get the mules?”
“Slim Bannister’s got a hoss farm ’bout ten miles away,” Nick said. “Got
some mules there. He sells pretty cheap.”
After all was decided upon, Mr. Manley looked over the list and went to
his office. When he returned he handed Roy a few bills of large
denomination.
“Grub stake,” he said casually. “You pay me back when you strike it
rich.”
“Right,” Roy answered. Mr. Manley grinned. His son was taking it like a
veteran. None of this “thanks, Dad” stuff. All business.
“I suppose we go fifty-fifty?” the ranch owner asked innocently. “I
reckon that’s the usual.”
“Sure,” Roy agreed. “Fifty-fifty. You’ll have four times as much as this
when we get back.” He stuck the money into his pocket.
Mr. Manley nodded gravely. “Nothin’ like confidence,” he said. “Go ahead
now. Don’t let me keep you. When you’re all set, come in an’ say
good-bye to your mother an’ me.”
“You bet we will!” the boy exclaimed, relaxing for the moment. “And you
know what this means to Teddy and me, Dad. I’m not going to--”
“Get along now,” Mr. Manley interrupted. “They’re waitin’ outside for
you!”
He clapped his son on the shoulder and turned to his desk. Roy, head up,
his eyes shining, strode toward the door. What a father he had!
Nick rode over to Bannister’s place and bought three mules. The moment
he returned with them, the loading began. Mr. Manley considered Silent’s
time of employment ended, so the puncher was relieved of all duties on
the ranch. He superintended the preparations, as befitted his
experience. Nick, while he knew something about mining from hearing the
cowboys talk of it, had never actually lived in a mining camp.
At last the hour for departure came. The brothers, mounted on Star and
Flash, were in the lead. Behind them came the three mules, well laden.
Then Nick and Silent brought up the rear. It was a two or three days’
journey to Nugget Camp. Each man had a canteen of water on his saddle,
besides a rifle, and on each belt hung a revolver.
Mr. and Mrs. Manley, Belle Ada, Pop, and Jack Conroy were on hand to see
them off. Teddy and Roy had already said their goodbyes to their
parents, both being cautioned against “wet feet, sleeping on the ground,
and sitting in a draft when overheated” by Mrs. Manley. They grinned,
and promised to do their best to obey all instructions.
“Hey, Teddy, bring me back a gold bracelet!” Belle called. “One with my
initials on it.”
“Where you think we’re going--shopping?” Teddy replied. “Sure you don’t
want a gold watch instead?”
“Bet you bring Curly something,” Belle rejoined mischievously. “All
right--you wait! I know somebody who--”
“You’d better go to visit the 8 X 8, and see your friend Doc Ring,” Roy
called. “He’s still making calls there, I understand, to treat Jerry
Decker. Bet he misses you!”
“We’d better vamoose, after that crack,” Teddy laughed. “Come on, let’s
go! So long, people!”
“So long! So long, Silent! Good luck!”
“Good-bye, boys!”
“So long, Dad, Mother! We’ll be rich when we get back!”
“Hey, Pop, you keep my bunk for me!” This from Nick. “An’ get a bushel
basket ready to carry my gold in!”
“I got a pint measure that’ll do as well,” Pop replied shortly. “Anyhow,
good luck to you.”
Teddy glanced over at Silent. The puncher was gazing straight ahead, as
though he heard nothing of what was going on around him.
“What are you planning to do?” Teddy asked.
“Huh? Who, me?” Silent appeared startled. “Oh, you mean if I find gold?”
He thought for a moment. “I tell you, boys,” he said finally. “There’s
other things besides money in this here world. An’ there’s other things
besides gold in a mining camp.” He touched his gun with his hand, then
looked at the mules. “Get along there, you!”