"Well, sir, four miles above Tularosa the wagon road drops off the mesa down to a little swale between a sandstone cliff and Tularosa Creek. They turned a corner, and there was nine big bucks, wrapped up in blankets, heads and all! There wasn't no arrows, and there wasn't nothing said. Not a word. Those nine bucks moved up beside Falling Pine, real slow, one at a time. Each one leaned close, pulled up a flap of the blanket, and looked old Falling Pine in the eye, nose to nose. Then he wrapped his blanket back over his face and faded away. That was all. "It was a great plenty. The plot thinned right there. Falling Pine, he handed back that thousand dollars advance money, like it was hot, and he beat it for Tularosa. They wanted him to try again, to tell 'em where the stuff was, anyhow; they doubled the price on him. He said no--not--_nunca_--nixy--_neinte_--he guessed not--_nada_--not much--never! He added that he was going to lead a better life from then on, and wouldn't they please hush? And what I say unto you is this: How did them Indians know--hey?" "Don't ask me," said Adam. "I've heard your story before, Charles--only your dead Injun had thirty-five arrows for souvenirs, 'stead of nine. The big idea was, of course, that where gold is found the white man comes along, and the Indian he has to move. But all this is neither here nor there, especially here, though heaven only knows what might have been under happier circumstances not under our control, as perhaps it was, though we are all liable to make mistakes in the best regulated families; yet perhaps I could find it in my heart to wish it were not otherwise, as the case may be." "Nine arrows!" said Charlie firmly. "Young fellow!" said Adam severely. "Be I telling this story or be I not? I been tryin' to relate about this may-be-so gold of mine, ever since you come--and dad burn it, you cut me off every time. I do wish you'd hush! Listen now! Of course there's placer gold all round Hillsboro; most anywheres west of the river, for that matter. But it's all fine dust--never coarse gold beyond the river--and it runs so seldom to the ton that no Injun would ever get it. So, thinks I, why not look in at Apache Cañon? It's the plumb lonesomest place I know, and I don't believe anybody ever had the heart to prospect it good. So I went up to Worden's and worked up from the lower end.