eins above. There it
was! I couldn't get to it--couldn't work it without an entrance from
this side of the creek. Landy has told you how I acquired the
entrance, and a farm and a house with it." Still talking, Welborn led
his guest back in the ravine back of the house, then through a tunnel
in the razor-edge cliff, the party walked out on the floor of the old
stream bed. "Jim and I made that tunnel. We dragged those logs through
it, to make a foundation for the engine and pump. Now all we have to
do, is blast out a sort of well-hole down at the creek so that the
intake will be on the claim, and we are all set for production. We can
do this today. Tomorrow, we will have water back on this old stream
bed. Jim and I will take a hand drill, dynamite, fuse and caps into
the gorge, and bust out a space about as big as a washtub, while you
and Landy are unpacking your plunder. Build a fire, Landy, to take the
chill off."

Unpacking suited Davy. While Landy brought in some pine knots and
lighted a fire against the charred backlog, Davy wrestled the
dufflebag open and began to take out the contents. It was a
hodge-podge of parts of every old costume he had ever used. The trunks
and suitcases yielded good property. "There," he pointed to a separate
pile, "there is my notion of where I was going, without seeing the
place. That's a sleeping bag and these are a pair of Hudson Bay
blankets. You see, I didn't know if I was to sleep out of doors or
sleep in a barn--surely, I didn't plan that it was a place like this!
Here's my mackinaw, boots, and mittens, and here's my hardware." He
produced a small rifle that had been packed between the blankets and
handed it to Landy for his inspection. "She's a thirty caliber,
carries two hundred yards at point blank and won't kick over a little
fellow like me.

"And this is what I want you to see in particular." Davy fumbled in
the keyster and brought out a small saddle with a fair leather bridle,
to match. It was not a pad saddle such as jockey's ride, nor yet a
civilian outfit without horn and only one web. It was a genuine
western, with high horn and high cantle and two cinches, but much
reduced in every dimension. "Will that fit the pony you saw over at
the B-line?"

Landy looked the saddle over carefully. "Hit's made by a saddle-maker
all right, and will fit that hoss to a tee. They used to have some
fancy saddles back in the early days. I've seen 'em that cost a
thousand--Chauchaua--mad