The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 81: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

GOLD GRABBERS. Deane wrote his name on the regis- ter. He began placing Bremerton’s under it, but the latter protested. ‘“T’m booked at another hotel,” said he. ‘You're going to be. booked at this one, too. We're going to have break- fast together.” “T’ve already had breakfast.” “Why didn’t you wait? Dash it, you're treating me like a hired man more than a pard. You'll eat again, that’s all.” Bremerton’s name went down, and Deane insisted that he accompany him up to his room. The black bag was opened, and Deane pulled out a flannel shirt, a slouch hat, a pair of khaki trousers, and a pair of laced knee- boots. He laughed like a boy as he showed the outfit. “Bet your life, old pard, I brought my war clothes along. After I eat I’m going to get into ’em, and you and me will go pottering off into the hills same as we. used to. Great!” “It won’t be hardly the same, Si,” said Bremerton. ‘“ Instead of walking and driving our pack-burros we'll ride in a buckboard.” “ Haven’t they got any automobiles in this man’s town?” “ Automobiles are a eulfivated taste, and the superintendent at the Mari- quita can’t afford so much style. You’re only a counterfeit at this old- time game, Deane. “Two days of the old life would kill you.” “Maybe you’re right. Help your- self to this—every swig is warranted to take ten years off your shoulders. It’s prime. A man in Denver gets it for me special.” Bremerton did not drink. He want- ed a clear head while he was with Deane. While his friend’s back was turned he unscrewed the cap and let it go at that. Deane faced around, took the flask out of his hands, and helped himself generously. In a few minutes they went down to breakfast together. Deane raided the bill of fare while Bremerton content- 651 ed himself with a cup of coffee and griddle-cakes. Not much was said about the mine. It was a subject for private discussion, and that dining-room was altogether too public a place. After the meal Bremerton left Deane to get into his “‘ war clothes ” and went after the team and buck- board. It was ten o’clock before they took the trail into the hills. “Now, remarked Deane, when they had left the town well behind them, “ we can get down to cases, Lee. You've pleased me a heap the way you've managed things. Old Griggs- by was a false alarm and Lacey was a weak sister. You grabbed the big diffi- culties by the scruff of the neck and chucked ’em into the discard. Knew you would.” This, in few words, was Deane’s estimate of the man who had died try- ing to'serve him, and of the other who had gone down to physical wreck in his employ. “You don’t know what Griggsby would have done if your enemies hadn’t picked him off,” said Bremerton sharply; ‘and Lacey is a whole man; I’ve seen him and I know.” “Oh, well, yes, if you want it that way,’ returned Deane impatiently. “Success, though, is the only thing that counts. You pulled the old work- ings through to glory, and there wasn’t much fuss about it, either. Reel that off to me.” Bremerton proceeded to “reel it off.’ He took a good deal of satisfac- tion in making the case as bad as it was. Beginning with the assault by the town canal, he followed with the cap- ture of Steve and Chombo, then told of the shot at the fork of the trail, and finished with the fate of Carruthers. Skilfully he left Mariquita Mallory out of the narrative. Not once was her name mentioned. His discovery of the lost lead was dealt with indefi- nitely—treated as an accident. For all this he had his reasons. COMicdoo S CO@