I was just a little kid and he was a big, homely,
red-headed chap, but I remember how my kid heart warmed to him and how
I wished I could get up on the stage and get to know him."
"So he was a gambler, was he?" Curly spoke in a musing voice. "Well,
if he was once, he is now. It's a worse vice than drink."
"How come you say that, Mr. Curly?" demanded Jonas.
"In the meantime," interrupted Enoch, gruffly, "how about my trip down
the Canyon?"
"Well," replied Milton, "if you go at it with your eyes open, I don't
see why you can't try it as far as Grant's Crossing. That's
seventy-five miles west of here. Barring accidents, we should reach
there in a week, cleaning up the survey as we go along. If you live to
reach there, you can either go out or come along, as you wish. But
understand that from the time we leave here till we reach Grant's
Crossing, there's no way out of the Canyon, at least as far as the maps
indicate."
"Say, the placer where I found my nugget is just above Grant's!"
exclaimed Harden. "Why don't you placer fans start on west and we'll
all try to meet there in a week's time. I couldn't tell Field where it
was in a hundred years."
"Suits me!" exclaimed Curly.
"Me too!" echoed Mack.
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