Gi' me that hammer," he cried, excitedly. "Come on, git to
work. Jab into the quartz with your pick; git out some chunks of it."
Cribbens went down on his hands and knees, attacking the quartz vein
furiously. The dentist followed his example, swinging his pick with
enormous force, splintering the rocks at every stroke. Cribbens was
talking to himself in his excitement.
"Got you THIS time, you son of a gun! By God! I guess we got you THIS
time, at last. Looks like it, anyhow. GET a move on, pardner. There
ain't anybody 'round, is there? Hey?" Without looking, he drew his
revolver and threw it to the dentist. "Take the gun an' look around,
pardner. If you see any son of a gun ANYWHERE, PLUG him. This yere's OUR
claim. I guess we got it THIS tide, pardner. Come on." He gathered up
the chunks of quartz he had broken out, and put them in his hat and
started towards their camp. The two went along with great strides,
hurrying as fast as they could over the uneven ground.
"I don' know," exclaimed Cribbens, breathlessly, "I don' want to say too
much. Maybe we're fooled. Lord, that damn camp's a long ways off. Oh, I
ain't goin' to fool along this way. Come on, pardner." He broke into a
run.
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