"Your gran'father had come over an' he had brought Blenham with him an'
his mechanic, Guy Little; an' there was a couple of new men in the
outfit I'd picked up myself that I knew was tough gents.
"No! I didn't take no chances, seein' the money was yours an' not mine
to fool with. I stuck it in the wall an' I sneaked off an' for three
hours I squatted there in the dark with my gun in my hand, waitin' an'
watchin'. Which was playing as safe as a man could, wasn't it, Steve?"
Packard got up and came to Royce's side, putting his hand gently on the
foreman's shoulder.
"It strikes me you've done rather a good deal for me, Bill," he said
quite simply.
"Maybe," said Royce thoughtfully. "But no more'n one pardner ought to
do for another; no more'n you'd do for me, Stevie. Don't I know you?
Give you the chance you'd do as much for me; eh, boy? Well, here's the
rest of the story: Your dad was dead: ol' Hell-Fire was blowin' his
nose so you'd hear it a mile an' I was feelin' weak an' sick-like,
knowin' all of a sudden that Phil Packard had been damn' good to me an'
wantin' to tell him so now it was too late. Late an' dark as it was I
went down to the bunk-house, tol' the boys to stick aroun' for orders
in the mornin', saddled my horse and beat it for a quiet place where I
could think. I never wanted to think so much in my life, Steve.
Remember the ol' cabin by the big timber over on the east side?"
"The old McKittrick place? Yes.
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