Part 2

When Jimmy regained consciousness, he found himself several yards away from the wreck. Rough splints and a bandage were around his right forearm. One of his eyes was swollen shut and a bandage was wrapped around his head. His left leg throbbed with pain. He was lying on a blanket and another blanket was spread over him. A few yards away Weber was bending over a fire. The old man’s clothing was torn, but he moved about as though he was not seriously injured.

Jimmy moved and Weber came over to him immediately.

“How do you feel?” he asked solicitously.

“Like the devil,” Jimmy groaned. “That was some smash.”

“The blankets kept me from getting hurt,” Weber explained. “I saw it was coming and held them up in front of me.” He was bruised and his face was discolored and scratched, but otherwise he did not appear to be injured.

“I wasn’t expecting such a smash,” Jimmy said. “I tried to pick out a bunch of young trees. I thought we’d simply settle down, maybe turn over.”

“Well, it could have been worse,” the old man said philosophically. “That was a nasty crack you got on your head. I was afraid you wasn’t goin’ to come around.”

“Have I been out long?”

“Nearly three hours, I reckon,” Weber informed him. “But don’t you worry none. I had no more than got you pulled out and bandaged up before one of them other planes began circling over and diving down to take a look at us. Accordin’ to the way they waved around, I figger they’re goin’ to the nearest place for help. Some one will be coming in here after us as soon as they can get here. Either they saw us go down or were just flyin’ over and happened to see the wreck.”

“How far from Keno are we?” Jimmy asked.

“About fifteen miles, I figger,” Weber said. “This is Stink Crick that I was tellin’ you about. I’ve come up and down this very crick many a time. Here’s where I figgered the strike would come instead of over at Keno. But that just shows you how gold strikes happen.”

“If you started now, you could get over to Keno before the rush got there, couldn’t you?” Jimmy asked slowly. “I suppose you know how to get over there from here.”

“Yes, I know the trail all right,” the old man admitted.

“And you could beat the rush there, couldn’t you?” Jimmy insisted.

“Wal, I reckon maybe I could,” Weber said.

“Old-timer, you go right ahead,” Jimmy said, “I’m feeling pretty good now. You strike out across the hills and get your claims located. Somebody will be along here later and pick me up, or else I’ll stay here till you get back.”

“I reckon gold ain’t worth that much, son,” the old man said gently. “Your arm’s broke and your leg’s bruised up, and there’s right smart of a hole in your head. I’ll never miss what I ain’t never had. You’ve done your best and you’ve lost your grubstake doin’ it. No, son. Don’t you fret none about me. There’ll be other gold strikes. I’m goin’ to build up a fire and make you a pot of coffee and fry up some bacon and you and me will wait right here until some help comes to get you out.”

“Listen, old-timer,” Jimmy pleaded. “I’ll be all right here. You go ahead. Stake out a claim for both of us.”

“Son,” the old man said, “there’s lions, bears, and wolves still roamin’ around in this part of the world pretty thick.”

“Leave me your gun; I can take care of myself,” Jimmy protested.

“It ain’t goin’ to be necessary,” Weber declared. “No use of you gettin’ up a fever by arguin’. I got you into this mess, and I’m goin’ to stay right by you until you get out of it. I’ve been thinkin’ it over for the last hour or two, and after all, maybe that Keno strike don’t amount to much. Every strike I’ve ever heard of was always the world’s biggest bonanza, but they generally all peter out. I don’t mind tellin’ you I was a little disappointed when your engine commenced to get hot goin’ up over the summit and I could begin to figger that we’d never make it. But I’m all over that now.

Jimmy protested and argued until he was too weak to say any more, but the old man remained obdurate and would not reconsider his determination to stay with Jimmy until help came. He built a fire and commenced to make coffee, and then after this was finished and Jimmy had eaten a little and drunk a cup of hot coffee, Weber commenced to make a bed of young green twigs on which Jimmy could pass the night in comfort.

Just before sundown a plane came over and dropped a message to them, saying that rangers had been notified and that help was on its way. After diving down close to the tree tops to get a reassuring wave from Jimmy and the old man, the plane passed rapidly out of sight. Weber did not go to bed. He wrapped Jimmy in all the blankets they had brought and made him comfortable. But he spent the night by the campfire. Jimmy did not go to sleep until late, but it was sun-up when he finally awoke.

* * * * *

Weber had breakfast ready. After Jimmy had taken a cup of coffee, the old man sat down by his side and showed him a handful of rock.

“Son, did you ever see any gold-bearin’ ore?” he demanded.

Jimmy suddenly saw that the old man’s hands were trembling and that he could hardly control his voice.

“Where did you find them?”

“We flew right down on a rainbow and landed smack-dab on a bag of gold,” the old man declared exultantly. “I’ve come up and down this crick a dozen times, but I never found anything but a few pieces of float. But, this Calico Peacock of yours dug its nose smack-dab into the richest gold ledge that’s been uncovered in this country for years. We’re rich, son. We’re so rich I don’t dare figger out how much we’re worth for fear I’ll wake up. I’ve got our claims all staked out. Last night after you’d gone to sleep I went over there to see if I couldn’t find my pipe. I struck some matches and scratched around on the ground and picked up a piece of this rock that had been busted off the ledge when we hit. There it was, out before my eyes.”

“Do you think it’s better than Keno would have been?”

“Keno!” the old man said contemptuously. “Why, son, inside of three days there’ll be twenty thousand men stakin’ claims around here. We don’t have to work our claims. We can sell them inside of twenty-four hours for a fortune apiece. Didn’t I tell you that there was no calculatin’ how or when a strike was goin’ to be made?”

[Transcriber’s Note: This story appeared in the April 10, 1929 issue of “Short Stories” magazine.]