CHAPTER XIII.
THE BULLET'S MESSAGE.
"Wal, those'll maybe make vallible building lots when Williams Creek hasgrowed as big as 'Frisco, but somehow trade in building lots ain't briskhere just now."
No one answered old Rampike. Steve and Ned felt rather hurt at thelevity of his remarks. It is poor fun even for a rich man to be robbedof six thousand dollars, and neither Ned nor Steve were rich men. Infact, in losing the six thousand dollars they had lost their all exceptthe pack-train.
"It ain't no manner of good to grizzle over it," continued thisphilosopher, "Cruickshank has got the cinch on you to rights this time.Six thousand dollars cash, the pleasure of your company from Victoria,and your pack-train to remember you by! Ho! ho!" and although it wasvery annoying to Ned, and quite contrary to Rampike's nature to do so,he laughed aloud at his own grim joke.
The laugh roused Chance. He was a Yankee to the tips of hisfinger-nails, one of those strange beings who "bust and boom" byturns--millionaires to-day, bankrupts to-morrow, equally sanguine,happy, and go-ahead in either extreme.
"Ned," he said, his face relaxing into a somewhat wintry smile, "I guessyou were right after all. Cruickshank is no Britisher, you bet."
"Glad you think so; hang him!" growled Ned.
"No Britisher could ever have planned so neat a swindle," continuedSteve meditatively. "By Jove, it is a 'way up'!" and this strange youngman really seemed lost in admiration at the smartness from which hehimself had suffered.
"I don't see much to admire in a thief and a liar. We prefer honesty tosmartness in my country, thank God!"
There was no disguising the fact that Ned Corbett was in a very uglytemper. Not being one of those who look upon the whole struggle forwealth as a game of chance and skill, in which everything is allowableexcept a plain transgression of the written rules of the game, he couldnot even simulate any admiration for a successful swindler's smartness.
Old Rampike saw his mood, and laying his hand on his shoulder gave him afriendly shake. "Never mind, sonny," he said. "It's no good callingnames; and as for being stone-broke, why there isn't a man in Caribooto-day, I reckon, who hasn't been stone-broke, aye and most of 'em mor'nonce or twice."
"Oh, yes, I suppose that is so," said Ned a little wearily, but rousinghimself all the same. "What can a man earn here as a digger in anotherfellow's claim?"
"Anything he likes to ask almost. Men who are worth anything at all asworkers are scarce around these parts."
"Then we sha'n't starve, that is some consolation. By the way, I have anote here for you. This confounded business nearly made me forget it;"and so saying Corbett produced from an inner pocket the little notegiven him by Roberts at the Balm-of-Gilead camp.
For a few moments Rampike twisted and turned the note about, trying todecipher the faint pencil-marks in the dim light. At last he got thenote right side up and began to read. Evidently he hardly understoodwhat he read at first, for those who were watching him saw that he readthe note through a second time, as if looking for some hidden meaning inevery word. When he had done this a vindictive bitter oath burst frombetween his set teeth.
"If Cruickshank ain't dead by now, my old pal Roberts is. You may bet onthat. Look ye here!" and the speaker handed Ned a flattened,blood-stained bullet which he had taken from Roberts' letter.
"Do you know what that is?" he asked.
"It looks like a revolver bullet," answered Ned.
"And so it is. That's the identical bullet as Dan Cruickshank fired at agrouse and _hit a cayuse_ with. Pretty shooting, wasn't it?" and Rampikeground his teeth with anger.
"What the deuce do you mean?" cried Steve in blank astonishment.
"Mean--mean! Why, that if you warn't such a durned tenderfoot you'd havetumbled to the whole thing long ago! Men like Cruickshank don't leavehorses unhobbled by mistake, don't hit and scare pack-horses on astone-slide by mistake, don't get to Williams Creek a day late bymistake. Oh, curse his mistakes! If he makes one more there'll be thebest pal and the sweetest singer in Cariboo lying dead up among thempines."
"Do you mean that Cruickshank did these things on purpose?" askedCorbett slowly, his face growing strangely hard as he spoke.
"Read Rob's letter," said Rampike, and gave Ned the scrap of paper onwhich Rob had found time to write a brief record of the journey fromDouglas, ending his story in these words--"Cruickshank means Corbettmischief, so I am staying instead of the lad. What his game is with thepack-ponies I am blowed if I know, but if I don't come in with theminside of a week, do some of you fellows try and get even with thecolonel for the sake of your old pal Roberts."
For several minutes after reading this note no one spoke; each man wasthinking out the situation after his own fashion.
"Will you trust me with grub for a fortnight, Rampike?" asked Ned atlast.
"Yes, lad, if you like; but you won't want to borrow. Men like you canearn all they want here;" and the miner looked appreciatively at thebig-limbed man before him.
"I'll earn it by and by, Rampike. I'm going after Roberts first,"replied Ned quietly.
"How's that?" demanded Rampike.
"I'm going after Roberts and Cruickshank. Can I have the grub?"
"If that's your style, you can have all the grub you want if I have togo hungry for a week. When will you start?"
"It will be dark in two hours," replied Ned, "and the moon comes upabout midnight. I shall start as soon as the moon is up."
"Impossible, man!" cried Chance. "I could not drag myself to the top ofthat first bluff unless I had had twenty-four hours' solid sleep, if mylife depended upon it."
"I know, old fellow, and I don't want you to; but you see a life maydepend upon it."
"But you aren't going alone, Corbett. I'll not hear of that."
"We will talk about that by and by, Steve. Let us go and turn in for alittle while now. I am dead tired myself." And so saying Corbett turnedon his heel and followed Rampike to his hut, where the old man foundroom for all three of them upon the floor.
"If Steve and I go to look for Roberts can you find a job for ourChinaman until we come back? I should not like the poor beggar tostarve," said Ned, pointing to where Phon lay already fast asleep. Themoment he laid down his head Phon had gone to sleep, and since then nota muscle had twitched to show that he was alive. Whatever his mastermight choose to arrange for his benefit the Chinaman was not likely tooverhear or object to.
"Oh yes, I can fix that easy enough. I'll set him to wash in my ownclaim. I can afford to pay him good wages as well as feed him. Men arescarce at Williams Creek."
Again for a time there was silence in the hut, Corbett and Rampikepuffing away at their pipes, and Steve Chance trying hard to keep hiseyes open as if he suspected mischief. At last nature got the better ofhim; the young Yankee's head dropped on his arm, and in another momenthe was as sound asleep as Phon.
Then Ned stood up and went over to sit beside the old miner Rampike,remarking as he did so:
"Thank heaven Steve is off at last. I thought the fellow never meant togo to sleep."
"What! Do you mean to leave him behind?" asked Rampike.
"Does he look as if he could do another week's tramping?" retorted Ned,glancing at the limp, worn-out figure of his friend. "He has pluckenough to try, but he would only hinder me."
"If that's so, I'll chuck my claim and come along too."
"Nonsense, you can't afford to lose your claim; and, besides, youcouldn't help me."
"Couldn't help you! How's that?" snorted Rampike indignantly.
"A man can always hunt better alone than with another fellow. One makesless noise than two in the woods."
"But you ain't going hunting?"
"Yes I am,--hunting big game too." And there was a light in NedCorbett's eye, as he overhauled his Winchester, that looked bad for anenemy.
"You ain't afraid of--losing your way?" asked Rampike. He was going tosay "You ain't afraid of Cruickshank, are you?" but a look on Corbett'sface stopped that question
.
"No, I'm used to the woods," Ned answered shortly; and then again for awhile the two men smoked on in silence.
Presently Corbett knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and put it awaycarefully in his pocket.
"Do you work in the night-shift on your place?" he asked Rampike.
"Either me or my partner is there all the while."
"Shall you be there to-night?"
"I'll be going on at midnight, but I'll fix up a pack with some grub init for you before I go."
"Thank you, I'll leave that to you, if I may. Will you call me beforeyou go? I mean to try to get all the sleep I can before the moon is up."
"Well, lie down right now. I'll call you, you bet. You're a good sortfor a Britisher--give us a shake;" and Rampike held out a hand as hardand as honest as the pick-handle to which it clung day after day.
Perhaps it was the thought of his old friend's danger which made Rampikeblind and careless, or perhaps it was only his natural clumsiness. Inany case he steered very badly for his own door, so badly indeed that hetripped over Chance's prostrate form, dealing him a kick that might haveroused a dead man. But Steve only turned over restlessly in his sleep,like one who dreams, and then lay as still again as ever.
Ned smiled. "No danger of waking him, I think, when I want to go. Poorold Steve! the loss of the money does not seem to spoil your sleepmuch."
Five minutes later, when Rampike had gone out to get together theprovisions which his guest needed, anyone listening to that guest'sregular breathing would have been of opinion that the loss of thedollars troubled Ned Corbett as little as it troubled Steve Chance.
Gold, Gold, in Cariboo! A Story of Adventure in British Columbia Page 13