"'Twas always said that Murrel's gang used to be around here one summer," the stranger observed.

     "I know it," said Injun Joe; "and this looks like it, I should say."

     "Now you won't need to do that job."

     The halfbreed frowned. Said he:

     "You don't know me. Least you don't know all about that thing. 'Tain't robbery altogether--it's revenge!" and a wicked light flamed in his eyes. "I'll need your help in it. When it's finished--then Texas. Go home to your Nance and your kids, and stand by till you hear from me."

     "Well--if you say so; what'll we do with this--bury it again?"

     "Yes. [Ravishing delight overhead.] No! by the great Sachem, no! [Profound distress overhead.] I'd nearly forgot. That pick had fresh earth on it! [The boys were sick with terror in a moment.] What business has a pick and a shovel here? What business with fresh earth on them? Who brought them here--and where are they gone? Have you heard anybody?--seen anybody? What! bury it again and leave them to come and see the ground disturbed? Not exactly--not exactly. We'll take it to my den."

     "Why, of course! Might have thought of that before. You mean Number One?"