He was evidently equally unprepared for the three silent seated figures before the door, and for a moment looked at them blankly with the doubts of a frequently deceived perception. Was he sure that they were quite real? He had not dared to look at his companion for verification, but smiled vaguely.
"Good-evening," said Demorest pleasantly.
Whiskey ****'s face brightened. "Good-evenin', good-evenin' yourselves, boys--and see how you like it! Lemme interdrush my ole frien' William J. Steptoe, of Red Gulch. Stepsho--Steptoe--is shtay--ish stay--" He stopped, hiccupped, waved his hand gravely, and with an air of reproachful dignity concluded, "sojourning for the present on the Bar. We wish to offer our congrashulashen and felish--felish--" He paused again, and, leaning against the door- post, added severely, "--itations."
His companion, however, laughed coarsely, and, pushing past ****, entered the cabin. He was a short, powerful man, with a closely cropped crust of beard and hair that seemed to adhere to his round head like moss or lichen. He cast a glance--furtive rather than curious around the cabin, and said, with a familiarity that had not even good humor to excuse it, "So you're the gay galoots who've made the big strike? Thought I'd meander up the Hill with this old bloat Alky, and drop in to see the show. And here you are, feeling your oats, eh? and not caring any particular G-d d--n if school keeps or not."
"Show Mr. Steptoe--the whiskey," said Demorest to Stacy. Then quietly addressing ****, but ignoring Steptoe as completely as Steptoe had ignored his unfortunate companion, he said, "You quite startled us at first. We did not see you come up the trail."
"No. We came up the back trail to please Steptoe, who wanted to see round the cabin," said ****, glancing nervously yet with a forced indifference towards the whiskey which Stacy was offering to the stranger.
"What yer gettin' off there?" said Steptoe, facing **** almost brutally. "YOU know your tangled legs wouldn't take you straight up the trail, and you had to make a circumbendibus. Gosh! if you hadn't scented this licker at the top you'd have never found it."
"No matter! I'm glad you DID find it, ****," said Demorest, "and I hope you'll find the liquor good enough to pay you for the trouble."
Barker stared at Demorest. This extraordinary tolerance of the drunkard was something new in his partner. But at a glance from Demorest he led **** to the demijohn and tin cup which stood on a table in the corner. And in another moment **** had forgotten his companion's rudeness.
Demorest remained by the door, looking out into the darkness.
"Well," said Steptoe, putting down his emptied cup, "trot out your strike. I reckon our eyes are strong enough to bear it now."
Stacy drew the blanket from the vague pile that stood in the corner, and discovered a deep tin prospecting-pan. It was heaped with several large fragments of quartz. At first the marble whiteness of the quartz and the glittering crystals of mica in its veins were the most noticeable, but as they drew closer they could see the dull yellow of gold filling the decomposed and honeycombed portion of the rock as if still liquid and molten. The eyes of the party sparkled like the mica--even those of Barker and Stacy, who were already familiar with the treasure.
"Which is the richest chunk?" asked Steptoe in a thickening voice.
Stacy pointed it out.
"Why, it's smaller than the others."
"Heft it in your hand," said Barker, with boyish enthusiasm.
The short, thick fingers of Steptoe grasped it with a certain aquiline suggestion; his whole arm strained over it until his face grew purple, but he could not lift it.
"Thar useter be a little game in the 'Frisco Mint," said ****, restored to fluency by his liquor, "when thar war ladies visiting it, and that was to offer to give 'em any of those little boxes of gold coin, that contained five thousand dollars, ef they would kindly lift it from the counter and take it away! It wasn't no bigger than one of these chunks; but Jiminy! you oughter have seed them gals grip and heave on it, and then hev to give it up! You see they didn't know anything about the paci--(hic) the speshif--"
He stopped with great dignity, and added with painful precision, "the specific gravity of gold."
"Dry up!" said Steptoe roughly. Then turning to Stacy he said abruptly, "But where's the rest of it? You've got more than that."
"We sent it to Boomville this morning. You see we've sold out our claim to a company who take it up to-morrow, and put up a mill and stamps. In fact, it's under their charge now. They've got a gang of men on the claim already."
"And what mout ye hev got for it, if it's a fair question?" said Steptoe, with a forced smile.
Stacy smiled also. "I don't know that it's a business question," he said.
"Five hundred thousand dollars," said Demorest abruptly from the doorway, "and a treble interest."
The eyes of the two men met. There was no mistaking the dull fire of envy in Steptoe's glance, but Demorest received it with a certain cold curiosity, and turned away as the sound of arriving voices came from without.
"Five hundred thousand's a big figger," said Steptoe, with a coarse laugh, "and I don't wonder it makes you feel so d----d sassy. But it WAS a fair question."
Unfortunately it here occurred to the whiskey-stimulated brain of **** that the friend he had introduced was being treated with scant courtesy, and he forgot his own treatment by Steptoe. Leaning against the wall he waved a dignified rebuke. "I'm sashified my ole frien' is akshuated by only businesh principles." He paused, recollected himself, and added with great precision: "When I say he himself has a valuable claim in Red Gulch, and to my shertain knowledge has received offers--I have said enough."