CHAPTER XII
A CRACK AT FORTUNE
They were back at the X Bar X again. The cattle had been loaded and sent rumbling toward Chicago. Things were quiet, and the punchers, except those who were riding fence, occupied themselves with jobs about the ranch.
Mr. Manley observed Teddy’s face, took a look at Silent, and said nothing. He knew. And when he saw Teddy and Silent throwing a jackknife into a small ring on the side of the bunk-house, trying to see who could come closest to the center, he grinned widely and said to Mrs. Manley, who stood with him on the porch of the ranch house:
“See it, Barbara? Reckon Teddy’s made a new friend.”
Mrs. Manley smiled and laid a hand on her husband’s arm.
“Bardwell,” she said, “men are inexplicable creatures! Teddy and that other--Silent, they call him--had a fight, didn’t they?”
“And from all accounts it was some scrap! Why?” He was chuckling.
“It seems so strange that it should need that to bring them together. I should think--”
“Now, watch out for that thinkin’ business. People have been known to get headaches that-a-way,” the rancher chuckled again. “A good scrap once in a while is better than a spring tonic. Say, Mother--” his voice became serious--“Teddy and Roy haven’t said much, but I’ve got a hunch they’re hankerin’ for something--or rather, to take a little trip.”
“A trip? Where?”
“Well--” he turned toward her--“if you ask me, I’d say they were achin’ to take a crack at Nugget Camp.”
“The place where that man--Pop’s cousin--was shot? Bardwell, we can’t let them go there!”
“Now, sweetness, you got that wrong!” Mr. Manley protested. “Decker didn’t get shot at the camp. He was ridin’ _away_ from it when he was held up. There’s no real danger. An’ the work here is pretty well under way. It would certainly be a grand experience for the boys.”
Mrs. Manley nodded and smiled.
“If you say so, Bardwell--and they aren’t really children any more, are they?”
“Children!” The long mustache trembled and a twinkle came into the blue eyes. “Children! Well, Mother, if you think they are--but we’ll let that go. Then you don’t mind if I tell them?”
“About Nugget Camp? No, Bardwell, as you say, it will probably be good for them--only I do hope they’ll be careful.”
“Now, Mother, you know they will! Never failed to come through anything they started, did they? You watch ’em carry home a hat full of gold!” He strode down the steps and went toward Teddy and Silent. They heard him coming and turned.
“Where’s Roy?” Mr. Manley asked.
“Helping Pop do something or other,” Teddy replied. Silent stood a bit to one side, his face expressionless.
“I’ve got something to tell him--to tell you, too, for that matter. Things pretty well cleaned up around here?”
“Yes, sir.” Teddy realized that his father knew exactly the condition of the ranch and recognized in the question an implication of his responsibility. Teddy and Roy were the real bosses of the X Bar X. Mr. Manley had put the affairs of the ranch into their hands.
“Well, then, I reckon it’s about time you an’ Roy took a trip, hey?” And Mr. Manley grinned.
“A trip?” Understanding came quickly. “You mean Nugget Camp?”
“Uh-huh. What about it?”
“I guess you know how much Roy and I would like to try it,” Teddy said eagerly. “But we haven’t said anything--we were needed here.”
“Yea! But now that we’ve got that shipment off, things are easin’ up some. So, if you want to--”
“If we _want_ to! Wait till Roy hears this!” Teddy glanced over toward Silent. “Say, Dad,” he said awkwardly, “could you spare Silent here?”
“Silent?” Mr. Manley gazed at the puncher. “You want to go too?”
“Well, you see it’s this way,” Silent answered uneasily. “I heard there was two fellers hangin’ around Nugget Camp, that--I want to meet.” His voice became tense. “That I want to meet real bad! An’ if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to go along with Teddy an’ Roy, if they go. I’ve a reason.”
Mr. Manley nodded. Roy had told him privately the story of Silent’s recent tragedy, and the man understood and sympathized with the grim puncher.
“I reckon we can fix that,” he said after a moment. “Here’s what I thought. Suppose you, Teddy, an’ Roy an’ Nick make up a party an’ stake a few claims. I can spare you-all, I reckon. Four will be just about right. An’ you can start to-morrow, if you want to.”
“That’s great, Dad!” Teddy exclaimed. “Silent, let’s get Roy.”
The two hurried off, Mr. Manley watching them go. His eyes were tender, his lips half open.
“Teddy,” he muttered, “come back the way you go!” and he went into the house.
When he heard the news, Roy was as excited as his brother. Bug Eye declared that he was going straightway to ask Mr. Manley for time off.
“He don’t need me now,” the puncher from the 8 X 8 declared. “I might just as well go with you fellows. Say, I know what! My boss said I could take a vacation soon, an’ here’s where I take it! I was plannin’ to head for Nugget Camp myself, then when Mr. Ball heard from yore dad, Teddy, he asked me to fill in here, an’ of course I did. But things are easy--lettin’ up. So I can go, me an’ my Tin Lizzie! You wait!”
He ran toward the ranch house to interview Mr. Manley, and returned in five minutes with a broad grin on his face.
“O. K.,” he said loudly. “I’m with you! To-morrow mornin’ early I starts for the 8 X 8 to get an outfit.”
“Say, Bug Eye, while you’re there, ask Jerry Decker a few questions,” Roy suggested. “Where is a good place to locate, and so forth. He ought to know. He was at Nugget Camp nearly two years.”
“An’ get him to tell you how much fun gold minin’ is,” Pop, strolling up at that moment, said dryly. “Let him tell you about the picnic he had!”
“We’re not going for fun,” Teddy asserted. “Anyhow, Pop, you said there was a good chance to get some gold.”
“Oh, I ain’t goin’ back on that. Silent, here, knows somethin’ about minin’. Don’t you, Silent?”
The puncher nodded. “A little,” he said briefly. “I been on a few rushes.”
“Jack Conroy gonna stay here?” Pop asked.
“Yep.” Silent lit a cigarette. “I asked him to. The whole ranch can’t leave.”
“You’re right as rain there,” Pop agreed. “Then it’s you, Teddy, Roy, and Nick?”
“Bug Eye is figuring on coming too,” Teddy said. “Going to bring his flivver--hey, Bug Eye?”
“So that’s why you said you was goin’ back to-morrow,” Pop mused. “All I heard was the part about askin’ Jerry to tell you where to locate. Well, you’ll need all the advice you can get! It’s no joke, livin’ in a minin’ camp. Plenty can happen, an’ then some.”
“Maybe that’s the reason we’re going,” Teddy said, grinning.
“Me, I’m gonna’ get rich!” Bug Eye boasted. “Rich as Creosote. You-all heard of him, ain’t you? He found a whole hill full o’ di’monds!”
“Save it for some cold night at Nugget Camp,” Teddy advised. “We’ll need all the entertainment we can get.”
“Somethin’ tells me you’ll have plenty of entertainment,” Pop grunted. “I gotta be goin’. Got things to do. See you before you leave.”
“Queer cuss,” Silent declared. It was the first observation he had made in some minutes. “Good guy, though!”
“I’ll tell a maverick he is!” Roy agreed. “Pop’s all right. Don’t you forget, Bug Eye, to ask Jerry Decker a few questions. I wouldn’t bother him much if he isn’t feeling all right, but Pop told us he was much better.”
“Sure, I know,” Bug Eye declared. “Leave it to me. Yay boy! Nugget Camp! Gold! By golly, I’m gonna get me three new flivvers!”
“And then retire and live on the fat of the land, I suppose,” Teddy put in. “Anyhow, we’ll take a crack at fortune!”
“Here’s hopin’ she smiles,” the puncher muttered. “In fact, I wouldn’t kick if she grinned wide enough to split her mouth. See you later, boys!”