Bab Bab 42 · BOOK III CHAPTER XVI

We made McCrimmon comfortable. We kept no whisky in the cabin, but we

gave him some hot coffee, which he drank with great satisfaction. Then

he twisted a cigarette, lit it, and looked at us keenly. On his brown,

flattish face were remarkable the impassivity of the Indian and the

astuteness of the Scot. We were regarding him curiously. Jim had

regained his calm, and was quietly watchful. The Prodigal seemed to have

his ears cocked to listen. There was a feeling amongst us as if we had

reached a crisis in our fortunes.

The Halfbreed lost no time in coming to the point.

"I like you boys. You're square and above-board. You're workers, and you

don't drink--that's the main thing.

"Well, to get right down to cases. I'm a bit of a mining man. I've mined

at Cassiar and Caribou, and I know something of the business. Now I've

got next to a good thing.--I don't know how good yet, but I'll swear to

you it's a tidy bit. There may be only ten thousand in it, and there may

be one hundred and ten. It's a gambling proposition, and I want

pardners, pardners that'll work like blazes and keep their faces shut.

Are you on?"

"That's got us kodaked," said the Prodigal. "We're that sort, and if the

proposition looks good to us we're with you. Anyway, we're clams at

keeping our food-traps tight."

"All right; listen. You know the Arctic Transportation Co. have claims

on upper Bonanza--well, a month back I was working for them. We were

down about twenty feet and were drifting in. They set me to work in the

drift. The roof kept sloughing in on me, and it was mighty dangerous. So

far we hadn't got pay-dirt, but their mining manager wanted us to drift

in a little further. If we didn't strike good pay in a few more feet we

were to quit.

"Well, one morning I went down and cleaned away the ash of my fire. The

first stroke of my pick on the thawed face made me jump, stare, stand

stock-still, thinking hard. For there, right in the hole I had made, was

the richest pocket I ever seen."

"You don't say! Are you sure?"

"Why, boys, as I'm alive there was nuggets in it as thick as raisins in

a Christmas plum-duff. I could see the yellow gleam where the pick had

grazed them, and the longer I looked the more could I see."

"Good Lord! What did you do?"

"What did I do! I just stepped back and picked at the roof for all I was

worth. A big bunch of muck came down, covering up the face. Then, like a

crazy man, I picked wherever the dirt seemed loose all the way down the

drift. Great heaps of dirt caved in on me. I was stunned, nearly buried,

but I did the trick. There were tons of dirt between me and my find."

We gasped with amazement.

"The rest was easy. I went up the shaft groaning and cursing. I

pretended to faint. I told them the roof of the drift had fallen in on

me. It was rotten stuff, anyway, and they knew it. They didn't mind me

risking my life. I cursed them, said I would sue the Company, and went

off looking too sore for words. The Manager was disgusted, he went down

and took a look at things; declared he would throw up the work at that

place; the ground was no good. He made that report to the Company."

The Halfbreed looked round triumphantly.

"Now, here's the point. We can get a lay on that ground. One of you boys

must apply for it. They mustn't know I'm in with you, or they would

suspect right away. They're none too scrupulous themselves in their

dealings."

He paused impressively.

"You cinch that lay agreement. Get it signed right away. We'll go in and

work like Old Nick. We'll make a big clean-up by Spring. I'll take you

right to the gold. There's thousands and thousands lying snug in the

ground just waiting for us. It's right in our mit. Oh, it's a cinch, a

cinch!"

The Halfbreed almost grew excited. Bending forward, he eyed us keenly.

In a breathless silence we stared at each other.

"Well," I objected, "seems to be putting up rather a job on the

Company."

Jim was silent, but the Prodigal cut in sharply:

"Job nothing--it's a square proposition. We don't know for certain that

gold's there. Maybe it's only a piffling pocket, and we'll get souped

for our pains. No, it seems to me it's a fair gambling proposition.

We're taking all kinds of chances. It means awful hard work; it means

privation and, maybe, bitter disappointment. It's a gamble, I tell you,

and are we going to be such poor sports as turn it down? I for one am

strongly in favour of it. What do you say? A big sporting chance--are

you there, boys, are you there?"

He almost shouted in his excitement.

"Hush! Some one might hear you," warned the Halfbreed.

"Yes, that's right. Well, it looks mighty good to me, and if you boys

are willing we'll just draw up papers and sign an agreement right away.

Is it a go?"

We nodded, so he got ink and paper and drew up a form of partnership.

"Now," said he, his eyes dancing, "now, to secure that lay before any

one else cuts in on us. Gee! but it's getting dark and cold outdoors

these days. Snow falling; well, I must mush to Dawson to-night."

He hurried on some warm, yet light, clothing, all the time talking

excitedly of the chance that fortune had thrown in our way, and gleeful

as a schoolboy.

"Now, boys," he says, "hope I'll have good luck. Jim, put in a prayer

for me. Well, see you all to-morrow. Good-bye."

* * * * *

It was late next night when he returned. We were sitting in the cabin,

anxious and expectant, when he threw open the door. He was tired, wet,

dirty, but irrepressibly jubilant.

"Hurrah, boys!" he cried. "I've cinched it. I saw Mister Manager of the

big Company. He was very busy, very important, very patronising. I was

the poor miner seeking a lay. I played the part well. He began by

telling me he didn't want to give any lays at present; just wanted to

stand me off, you know; make me more keen. I spoke about some of their

ground on Hunker. He didn't seem enthusiastic. Then, at last, as if in

despair, I mentioned this bit on Bonanza. I could see he was itching to

let me have it, but he was too foxy to show it. He actually told me it

was an extra rich piece of ground, when all the time he knew his own

mining engineer had condemned it."

The Prodigal's eyes danced delightedly.

"Well, we sparred round a bit like two fake fighters. My! but he was

wily, that old Jew. Finally he agreed to let me have it on a

fifty-per-cent. basis. Don't faint, boys. Fifty per cent., I said. I'm

sorry. It was the best I could do, and you know I'm not slow. That means

they get half of all we take out. Oh, the old shark! the robber! I tried

to beat him down, but he stood pat; wouldn't budge. So I gave in, and we

signed the lay agreement, and now everything's in shape. Gee whiz!

didn't I give a sigh of relief when I got outside! He thinks I'm the

fall guy, and went off chuckling."

He raised his voice triumphantly.

"And now, boys, we've got the ground cinched, so get action on

yourselves. Here's where we make our first real stab at fortune. Here's

where we even up on the hard jabs she's handed us in the past; here's

where we score a bull's-eye, or I miss my guess. The gold's there, boys,

you can bank on that; and the harder we work the more we're going to get

of it. Now, we're going to work hard. We're going to make ordinary hard

work look like a Summer vacation. We're going to work for all we're

worth--and then some. Are you there, boys, are you there?"

"We are," we shouted with one accord.