“What? What’s that? New bills, you say?” David exclaimed. “Then he must have got ’em from some bank, and the only bank in Wallula is one he’s not friendly with, because we all know he had a row with the manager when it opened because said manager wouldn’t play in on the Shaughnessy game. Besides, since when does any one suppose Tom Shaughnessy’s a careful enough business man to take down the numbers on bills he’s going to ship out by express?” “Don’t know about all that, but I’m just tellin’ you what I heard and what’s common talk about the camp.” Goliath, big, phlegmatic, and apparently wholly occupied with his food, lifted his dark eyes slowly and after waiting to see whether any one else had questions to ask or information to volunteer inquired, “Did you say this fellow Ray is working up on Torren’s Gulch?” “Yes. They say he’s got a prospect up there.” “And he hadn’t struck pay?” “Not that any one knows of.” Goliath resumed his meal and it was not until the conversation had again died away that he again offered an interrogation. “Tim, didn’t Charley Evans have a claim on Torren’s Gulch, one time, a while ago? You ought to know that country. You were up there a while back.” “Him? Charley Evans, you say? Sure, he had a claim up there. Number Four above; but he sold out to Pinder. Got a thousand dollars for it and I told him at the time I thought he was either lucky or a fool. Pinder’s got Number Three, too, come to think of it. And that makes me think of another thing, Shaughnessy’s got Number One and Two below and, if I’m not off my reckonin’, this chap Ray must have owned Number One above on the gulch. I don’t know who owns Discovery and Number Two above but I think it’s a man named MacPharlane, or something like that.” He had his eyes on his plate, hence did not see the start of surprise or the scowl that crept over David’s face, nor the exchange of swift glances between David and Goliath. And suddenly, as if to divert the conversation, David began to talk volubly of something else. It was not until their guest had gone to his blankets and the partners were left alone that night that Goliath remarked, “Guess you’re thinkin’ about the same as I am, ain’t you, Davy--that there’s something fishy about that Ray deal, and that perhaps it was wise not to show too much interest or ask too many questions out there at the supper table?” “You’ve got it, Goliath,” came the prompt reply. “And to-morrow you and I are going to take a long trip. Clear down to the county seat and to the county jail. If I’m not off that young feller Ray needs help about as badly as anybody ever did. It’s up to us to give it. Hank can stay here at the mine and keep things going till we get back and--maybe lie to anybody who comes along as to where we have gone. Get me?” “Got you,” said Goliath, and then, “Good night.”