Gold Part 38

Johnny laughed a little uncertainly over this contradiction.

"Did I kill him?" he asked.

"No, worse luck; just bored him through the collarbone. That heavy little derringer ball knocked him out."

"I'm glad of that," said Johnny.

"Which I am _not_," stated Danny Randall with emphasis. "You ought to have killed him."

"Thanks to you I wasn't killed myself. I couldn't have hoped to get the draw on him with my holster gun. He is as quick as a snake."

"I thought you were going to bungle it," said Randall. "What was the matter?"

"Front sight caught at the edge of my sleeve. I had to tear it loose by main strength. I'm going to file it off. What's the use of a front sight at close range?"

I heaved a deep sigh.

"Well, I don't want ever to be so scared again," I confessed. "Will you tell me, by all that's holy, _why_ you turned your back on the door?"

"Well," said Johnny seriously, "I wanted to get him close to me. If I had shown him that I'd seen him when he first came in the door, he'd have opened fire at once. And I'm a rotten shot. But I figured that if he thought I didn't see him, he'd come across the room to me."

"But he nearly got you by surprise."

"Oh, no," said Johnny; "I saw him all the time. I got his reflection from the gla.s.s over that picture of the beautiful lady sitting on the Old Crow Whiskey barrel. That's why I picked out that table."

"My son," cried Danny Randall delightedly, "you're a true sport. You've got a head, you have!"

"Well," said Johnny, "I figured I'd have to do _something_; I'm such a rotten shot."

CHAPTER x.x.xI

THE EXPRESS MESSENGER

We slept late the following morning, and awoke tired, as though we had been on a long journey.

"Now," said Johnny, when our after-breakfast pipes had been lit, "we've got to get together. There's two serious questions before the house: the first and most important is, who and what is Danny Randall?"

"I agree with you there," said I heartily.

"And the second is, what are we going to do with ourselves?"

"I'm going to begin mining," I stated.

"All right, old strong-arm; I am not. I'm dead sick of cricking my back and blistering my hands. It isn't my kind of work; and the only reason I ever thought it was is because the stuff we dig is called gold."

"You aren't going to lie down?" I cried incredulously.

"No, old sport, I'm not going to lie down. I came out here to make my fortune; but I don't know that I've got to dig gold to do that."

"What are you going to do?"

"That I don't know," confessed Johnny, "but I'll be able to inform you in a few days. I suppose you'll be going back to the Porcupine?"

"I don't know about that," said I seriously. "I don't believe the Porcupine is any richer than these diggings, and it's mighty uncertain.

I believe a man's more apt to keep what he gets here, and there's a lot more company, and----"

"In other words, you're going to stick around old Yank or know the reason why!" interrupted Johnny with a little smile.

I flushed, hesitated, then blurted out: "Well, yes. I shouldn't be easy about him here by himself. It strikes me this is a tough camp, and almost anything's likely to happen."

"I feel the same way," confessed Johnny. "We're all partners. All right; 'stick' it is. We'll have to be mighty plausible to keep Yank quiet.

That's agreed," he grinned. "Now I'm going up to town to find out about Danny Randall, and incidentally to look around for something to do.

You're a good steady liar; you go over and talk to Yank."

We separated until noon. I had no great difficulty with Yank, either because I was, as Johnny said, a plausible liar, or because Yank was secretly glad to have us near. After visiting with him a while I took the axe and set about the construction of a cradle. Johnny returned near twelve o'clock to find me at this useful occupation.

"As to Danny Randall," he began at once, squatting near by: "Origin lost in mists of obscurity. First known in this country as guide to a party of overland immigrants before the gold discovery. One of the original Bear Flag revolutionists. Member of Fremont's raiders in the south.

Showed up again at Sonoma and headed a dozen forays after the horse-thieving Indians and half-breeds in the San Joaquin. Seems now to follow the mines. Guaranteed the best shot with rifle or pistol in the state. Guaranteed the best courage and the quietest manners in the state. Very eminent and square in his profession. That's his entire history."

"What is his profession?" I asked.

"He runs the Bella Union."

"A gambler?" I cried, astonished.

"Just so--a square gambler."

I digested this in silence for a moment.

"Did you discover anything for yourself?" I asked at last.

"Best job ever invented," said Johnny triumphantly, "at three ounces a day; and I can't beat that at your beastly digging."

"Yes?" I urged.

"I invented it myself, too," went on Johnny proudly. "You remember what Randall--or the doctor--said about the robberies, and the bodies of the drowned men floating? Well, every man carries his dust around in a belt because he dare not do anything else with it. I do myself, and so do you; and you'll agree that it weighs like the mischief. So I went to Randall and I suggested that we start an express service to get the stuff out to bank with some good firm in San Francisco. He fell in with the idea in a minute. My first notion was that we take it right through to San Francisco ourselves; but he says he can make satisfactory arrangements to send it in from Sacramento. That's about sixty miles; and we'll call it a day's hard ride through this country, with a change of horses. So now I'm what you might call an express messenger--at three good ounces a day."

"But you'll be killed and robbed!" I cried.

Johnny's eyes were dancing.

"Think of the fun!" said he.

"You're a rotten shot," I reminded him.