"Andy!" snapped Pop. "Come away from there! Lord knows you ain't got no sense, but there ain't no use riskin' yore instinct!" Johnny laughed. "Leavin' jokes aside, me an' Pepper are goin' off by ourselves an' poke around pannin' th' streams an' bustin' nuggets off th' rocks till we get a fortune or our grub runs out. We can have a good time, an'--hey! You got any fishhooks?" "Fishhooks nothin'!" snorted Pop. "Lot of call _I_ got for fishhooks. Why, I ain't heard th' word for ten years. Say!" he grinned sheepishly. "Mebby you'll get lonesome. Now, if we went off together, with some fishhooks--but, shucks! I can't leave this here business." Johnny hid his relief. "That's th' worst of havin' a business. You certainly can't go off an' let everythin' go to smash." "Cuss th' luck!" growled Pop. "Gosh, I'm all het up over it! I ain't done no fishin' since I was a kid, an' there must be lots of trout in these streams." Then he brightened a little. "But I dunno. You look too cussed much like Logan to be real comfortable company for _me_. I reckon I'll pay attention to business." Johnny showed a little irritation. "There you go again! You do a lot of worryin' about my looks. If they don't suit you, start right in an' change 'em!" "There _you_ go!" snapped Pop disgustedly. "On th' prod th' first thing! You'd show more common sense if _you_ did some of th' worryin'. But then, I reckon it'll be all right if you does yore prospectin' an' fishin' south of here." "No, sir! I'm goin' to do it north of here, in th' Twin Buttes country." Pop's expression baffled description, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down like a monkey on a stick. "Good Lord! You stick to Devil's Gap, an' south of there!" Johnny's eyes narrowed and he sat up very straight. "This is a free country an' I goes where I please. It's a habit of mine. I said north, an' that's where I'm goin'. I wasn't so set on it before; but now I'm as set as a Missouri mule." Pop growled. "There ain't no chance of you havin' _my_ company; an' you leave th' name an' address of yore next of kin before you starts." Johnny laughed derisively. "I ain't worryin'. An' now let's figger out what a regular prospector needs. Bein' new at th' game I reckon I better get some advice. What I'm dubious about are th' proper things to pry th' nuggets loose with, an' hoist 'em on my cayuse," he grinned. "Ought to have a pick, shovel, gold pan for placer fussin'--'gold pan' sounds regular, don't it?--an' some sacks to tie it up in. A dozen'll do for a starter. I can allus come back for more." "Or you can borrow a chuck waggin; that would be handy because it would make it easy to get yore body out, 'though I reckon they'll just bury you an' let it go that way." "They? Meanin' who?" "I ain't got a word to say." "There's some consolation in that," jeered Johnny. "Yo're a fool!" snorted Pop heatedly.