, and the lines at his lips and nostrils became more deeply
etched in bitterness and ugly resolve.
"It was down in the San Luis valley I first met up with Mike McGuire. He
was born in Ireland, of poor but honest parents, as the books tell us.
He changed his name to 'Jonathan K.' when he made his first 'stake.'
That meant he was comin' up in the world--see? Me and Mike worked
together up in Colorado, punchin' cattle, harvestin', ranchin'
generally. We were 'buddies,' _mon gars_, like you an' me, eatin',
sleepin' together as thick as thieves. He had a family somewhere, same
as me--the wife had a little money but her old man made him quit--some
trouble. After awhile we got tired of workin' for wages, grub staked,
and beat it for the mountains. That was back in nineteen one or two, I
reckon. We found a vein up above Wagon Wheel Gap. It looked good and we
staked out claims and worked it, hardly stoppin' to eat or sleep." Coast
stopped with a gasp and a shrug. "Well, the long an' short of that, _mon
vieux_, was a year of hard work with only a thousand or so apiece to
show for it. It was only a pocket. Hell!" He broke off in disgust and
spat into the fireplace. "Don't talk to me about your gold mines. There
ain't any such animal. Well, Mike saved his. I spent mine. Faro. You
know--an' women. Then I got hurt. I was as good as dead--but I pulled
through. I ain't easy to kill. When I came around, I 'chored' for a
while, doin' odd jobs where I could get 'em and got a little money
together and went to Pueblo. When I struck town I got pretty drunk and
busted a faro bank. I never _did_ have any luck when I was sober."
"Yes, you've told me about that," said Peter.
"So I did--on the _Bermudian_. Well, it was at Pueblo I met up with Mike
McGuire, and we beat it down into Arizona where the copper was. Bisbee
was only a row of wooden shacks, but we got some backin', bought an
outfit and went out prospectin' along the Mexican border. And what with
'greasers' and thievin' redskins it was some job in those days. But we
made friends all right enough and found out some of the things we wanted
to know.
"Now, Pete, if I was to tell you all that went on in that long trail
into the Gila Desert and what happened when we got what we went for,
you'd know as much as I do. You'd know enough to hold up Mike McGuire
yourself if you'd a mind to. This is where the real story stops. What
happened in between is my secret and Mike McGuire's. We found t
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