"But I have from
swingin' a pick. Your back'll be so blame stiff in about three days that
you'll wish you never seen a pan or a shovel. Then you'll get over the
fever and settle down sensible. Three of us could do a heap better than
two. I wish Collie was on the job."
"I'm willing," said Winthrop.
"'Course you are, but you get your half of this as agreed. Collie's
share comes out of my half. I'm playin' this hand over the table, in
plain sight."
Winthrop glanced quickly at Overland's inscrutable face. "Suppose I
should tell you that my income, each week, is about equal to what we
expect to get from this claim?"
"Makes no difference," growled Overland. "It wasn't your money that
stood off the constable--and later out in the desert. It was _you_.
They's some places left on this old map yet where a man is jest what his
two fists and his head is worth. This here Mojave is one of 'em. Are you
squeak to that?"
"I understand," said Winthrop.
* * * * *
They worked steadily until evening. They staked out their respective and
adjoining claims, dropped the rusted tools in a bottomless crevice, and
removed the last shred and vestige of a previous occupancy.
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