“So we’ve got to get him back here again, boys,” murmured Buck, rubbing his hands while his eyes feasted upon the heap of gold. “I don’t mind boardin’ Pierre Luzon for a spell, and he can have all the bourbon he wants.” “Till he tells us where Guadalupe gets her nuggets,” grinned Jack. “But you’ve forgotten to show ‘em, Munson, the card that came with the coin.” “Oh, yes,” rejoined Munson, drawing a small piece of pasteboard from his pocket. “It is brief enough. Luzon gives his countryman’s family address in Marseilles where the first five thousand dollars is to be mailed. Then he writes down our five names, Dick Willoughby’s first, and says the five of us are to share equally.” He passed the card to Tom Baker for inspection, and went on: “Jack and I are going to ride over to Bakersfield, get the French bank draft and put Dick’s money in the bank along with our own.” “Where’s Dick?” asked Buck, with a quick uplift of his eyes into Munson’s face. But the latter was not to be betrayed into divulging any information that might be in his possession. “I have not the slightest idea,” he replied airily. “But I feel sure Dick’s all right. He is the sort of fellow well able to look after himself. Meanwhile, Jack and I will attend to his financial interests,” he added with a laugh, as he began to count the gold. In silence the task proceeded, five thousand dollars first being set aside, and then the balance divided into five separate heaps. When all were satisfied as to the correctness of the distribution, Munson swept the gold back into the sack, except for the two little piles allotted to Ashley and Baker. Then he securely tied the package, ready for the ride to Bakersfield. “Buck will lock mine in his safe, boys,” exclaimed Tom Baker. “Gosh me, but I’ll want to look at it two or three times a day.” “Oh, I’m drivin’ over to the bank myself tomorrer,” declared Buck. “I’ve got a bit more to add to this pile.” “A few handfuls of nuggets, I suppose,” laughed Rover. “Well, I’ll allow Guadalupe always pays her grocery bills. But this ‘ere store ain’t goin’ to be a safe deposit vault, not on your demed life, with bandits around again. So you’d better arrange to come with me to town tomorrer, Tom.” “You’ll need me to help you home, perhaps,” grinned the sheriff. “But, I say, Munson, you ain’t told us yet how this sack came to be delivered at your place.” “There’s a proper mystery for you!” cried Munson. “As I said before, I found the bag this morning, lying on my dressing table. Sing Ling was the only one besides myself in the shack, and he never heard a sound all night.” “You’re still in Dick’s old home?” asked Buck. “Yes, but I leave tomorrow—have notice to quit, for some surveyor chaps are coming in. I’m moving up to Mr. Robles’ place. He wants me to catalog the books in his library.” “And Sing Ling?” queried Tom.