"But," said I, "if they do know, could the three of them not come to some agreement and go out and find the place? If the third man is dead there, I suppose the mine would be theirs and they could share on it. Besides, while they stay here doubtless other men will be out looking for the cabin." The landlord listened attentively to me. "Well," said he, "as for your first remark, Canlan is too all-fired hard a man to make any such daffy with them, and there’s just that touch of the devil in Apache Kid and that amount of hang-dog in Donoghue to prevent them making up to Canlan, I reckon. Not but what they pump each other. Sometimes they get out there on the verandah nights, and, you bein’ in the know now, you ’ll understand what’s running underneath everything they say. As for the other men goin’ out and looking for a cabin! Shucks! Might as well go and look for that needle you hear people talk about in the haystack. Not but what a great lot has gone out. Most every man in the Poorman Mine went off with a pack-hoss to hunt it, and plenty others too. And between you and me," said the landlord, "I reckon they ’re all on the wrong scent. They ’re all away along Baker Range, and I reckon they must be on the wrong scent there or else them three others wouldn’t be sittin’ here in Baker City smiling; that is, if they dew know where the location is." Just then the Chinese cook arrived quietly on the scene to inform Mr. Laughlin of the progress of dinner. Then a laugh sounded in the passage and Apache Kid entered the bar-room accompanied by a heavy-set, loose-jawed man of thirty years or thereby, a man with a slovenly appearance in his dress and a cruel expression on his face. "That’s them both," said Laughlin, prodding me with his elbow as they marched through the bar and out to the rear verandah where we heard them dragging chairs about, and the harsh voice of the parrot, evidently awakened from his reveries in the sunshine: "Well, well! If this ain’t——" and a dry cackle of laughter.