"Oh, no! I don’t suppose that there is such a thing as a turquoise in this whole territory. Don’t you see, we’ve struck these fellows’ banking accounts? Did you ever hear of a prospector putting his whole funds in a bank? Never! He ’ll trust the bank with enough for a rainy day. The only thing that he ’ll do with his whole funds is to go in for some big gamble, such as the Frisco Lottery that put thousands of such old moles on their beam ends. In a gamble he ’ll stake his all, down to his pack-horse. But he does n’t like the idea of putting out his wealth for quiet, circumspect, two-a-half per cent interest. He ’d rather carry it in his boot-soles than do that any day." Up he got then, and really I must leave it to you to decide how much was pose, how much was actual in Apache Kid, when he said: "I think we had better continue our search, however, not so much for the further wealth we may find as to satisfy curiosity. It would be interesting to know just how much wealth these fellows would n’t trust the banks with. Let us continue this interesting and instructive search." For my part, I, who heard the ring in his voice as he spoke, think he was really greatly excited, and to talk thus calmly was just his way. *CHAPTER XXI* _*Re-enter—The Sheriff of Baker City*_ "Pardon the question," said Apache Kid, looking on me across the hoard, he sitting cross-legged upon one side, I sprawled upon the other, "but do you feel no slightest desire stealing in upon you to possess this all for yourself?" I stared at him in astonishment, so serious he was. "It does not even enter your head to regret my return from the dead?" "Apache!" I exclaimed. He chuckled to himself. "I fear," said he, "that you are of too refined a nature for this hard world. I predict that before you come to the age of thirty you will be aweary of its cruelty—always understanding when I say world that I mean the men in the world. I have to thank you for not suggesting that that was the way in which I used the word. It wearies me to have the obvious always iterated in my ears. So you feel no hankerings to see me dead?" I made no reply, and he chuckled again and then looked upon our trove. We made certain we had found it all—the first bag of small nuggets of which I told you, the bag of turquoises, two more bags of larger nuggets, and three separate rolls of dollar and five-dollar bills. The bills amounted to a hundred and fifty dollars—a mere drop in the bucket, as Apache said. It was the two bags of larger nuggets and the bag of turquoises that were the real "trove," but Apache Kid would not hazard a guess of their value. All that he would say then, as he weighed them in his palm, was: "You are safe, Francis—you need no more run with the pack." I did not at the moment understand his use of the word "pack," but his next words explained it.