We slept late the following morning, and awoke tired, as though we had been on a long journey.

“Now,” said Johnny, when our after-breakfast pipes had been lit, “we’ve got to get together. There’s two serious questions before the house: the first and most important is, who and what is Danny Randall?”

“I agree with you there,” said I heartily.

“And the second is, what are we going to do with ourselves?”

“I’m going to begin mining,” I stated.

“All right, old strong-arm; I am not. I’m dead sick of cricking my back and blistering my hands. It isn’t my kind of work; and the only reason I ever thought it was is because the stuff we dig is called gold.”

“You aren’t going to lie down?” I cried incredulously.

“No, old sport, I’m not going to lie down. I came out here to make my fortune; but I don’t know that I’ve got to dig gold to do that.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That I don’t know,” confessed Johnny, “but I’ll be able to inform you in a few days. I suppose you’ll be going back to the Porcupine?”

“I don’t know about that,” said I seriously. “I don’t 292 believe the Porcupine is any richer than these diggings, and it’s mighty uncertain. I believe a man’s more apt to keep what he gets here, and there’s a lot more company, and-”

“In other words, you’re going to stick around old Yank or know the reason why!” interrupted Johnny with a little smile.

I flushed, hesitated, then blurted out: “Well, yes. I shouldn’t be easy about him here by himself. It strikes me this is a tough camp, and almost anything’s likely to happen.”

“I feel the same way,” confessed Johnny. “We’re all partners. All right; ‘stick’ it is. We’ll have to be mighty plausible to keep Yank quiet. That’s agreed,” he grinned. “Now I’m going up to town to find out about Danny Randall, and incidentally to look around for something to do. You’re a good steady liar; you go over and talk to Yank.”

We separated until noon. I had no great difficulty with Yank, either because I was, as Johnny said, a plausible liar, or because Yank was secretly glad to have us near. After visiting with him a while I took the axe and set about the construction of a cradle. Johnny returned near twelve o’clock to find me at this useful occupation.

“As to Danny Randall,” he began at once, squatting near by: “Origin lost in mists of obscurity. First known in this country as guide to a party of overland immigrants before the gold discovery. One of the original Bear Flag revolutionists. Member of Fremont’s raiders in the 293 south. Showed up again at Sonoma and headed a dozen forays after the horse-thieving Indians and half-breeds in the San Joaquin. Seems now to follow the mines. Guaranteed the best shot with rifle or pistol in the state. Guaranteed the best courage and the quietest manners in the state. Very eminent and square in his profession. That’s his entire history.”

“What is his profession?” I asked.

“He runs the Bella Union.”

“A gambler?” I cried, astonished.

“Just so–a square gambler.”

I digested this in silence for a moment.

“Did you discover anything for yourself?” I asked at last.

“Best job ever invented,” said Johnny triumphantly, “at three ounces a day; and I can’t beat that at your beastly digging.”

“Yes?” I urged.

“I invented it myself, too,” went on Johnny proudly. “You remember what Randall–or the doctor–said about the robberies, and the bodies of the drowned men floating? Well, every man carries his dust around in a belt because he dare not do anything else with it. I do myself, and so do you; and you’ll agree that it weighs like the mischief. So I went to Randall and I suggested that we start an express service to get the stuff out to bank with some good firm in San Francisco. He fell in with the idea in a minute. My first notion was that we take it right through to San Francisco ourselves; but he says he can make satisfactory arrangements to send it in from Sacramento. That’s about sixty miles; and we’ll call it 294 a day’s hard ride through this country, with a change of horses. So now I’m what you might call an express messenger–at three good ounces a day.”

“But you’ll be killed and robbed!” I cried.

Johnny’s eyes were dancing.

“Think of the fun!” said he.

“You’re a rotten shot,” I reminded him.

“I’m to practise, under Danny Randall, from now until the first trip.”

“When is that?”

“Do you think we’ll advertise the date? Of course I’d tell you, Jim; but honestly I don’t know yet.”

Since the matter seemed settled, and Johnny delighted, I said no more. My cradle occupied me for three days longer. In that length of time Johnny banged away an immense quantity of ammunition, much of it under the personal supervision of Danny Randall. The latter had his own ideas as to the proper practice. He utterly refused to let Johnny shoot at a small mark or linger on his aim.

“It’s only fairly accurate work you want, but quick,” said he. “If you practise always getting hold of your revolver the same way, and squeeze the trigger instead of jerking it, you’ll do. If you run against robbers it isn’t going to be any target match.”

When my cradle was finished, I went prospecting with a pan; and since this was that golden year 1849, and the diggings were neither crowded nor worked out, I soon found ‘colour.’ There I dragged my cradle, and set quite happily to work. Since I performed all my own labour, the process seemed slow to me after the quick results of trained cooperation; 295 yet my cleanings at night averaged more than my share used to be under the partnership. So I fell into settled work, well content. A week later Johnny rode up on a spirited and beautiful horse, proud as could be over his mount.

He confided to me that it was one of the express horses; that the first trip would be very soon; and that if I desired to send out my own savings, I could do so. I was glad to do this, even though the rates were high; and we easily persuaded Yank of the advisability. Nobody anticipated any danger from this first trip, for the simple reason that few knew anything about it. Randall and his friends made up the amount that could be carried by the three men. For the first time I learned that Johnny had companions. They started from our own tent, a little after sundown. Indeed, they ate their supper with us, while their beautiful horses, head high, stared out into the growing darkness. One of the express riders was a slight, dark youth whom I had never seen before. In the other I was surprised to recognize Old Hickory Pine. He told me his people had “squatted” not far from Sacramento, but that he had come up into the hills on summons by Danny Randall. The fact impressed me anew as to Randall’s wide knowledge, for the Pines had not been long in the country.

The trip went through without incident. Johnny returned four days later aglow with the joy of that adventurous ride through the dark. Robbers aside, I acknowledge I should not have liked that job. I am no horseman, and I confess that at full speed I am always uneasy as to how a four-hoofed animal is going successfully to plant all 296 four of them. And these three boys, for they were nothing else, had to gallop the thirty miles of the road to Sacramento that lay in the mountains before dawn caught them in the defiles.

Johnny seemed to glory in it, however. Danny Randall had arranged for a change of horses; and the three express riders liked to dash up at full speed to the relay station, fling themselves and their treasure bags from one beast to the other, and be off again with the least possible expenditure of time. The incoming animal had hardly come to a stand before the fresh animal was off. There could have been no real occasion for quite so much haste; but they liked to do it. The trips were made at irregular intervals; and the riders left camp at odd times. Indeed, no hour of the twenty-four was unlikely to be that of their start. Each boy carried fifty pounds of gold dust distributed in four pouches. This was a heavy weight, but it was compensated for to some extent by the fact that they rode very light saddles. Thus every trip the enormous sum of thirty-five thousand dollars went out in charge of the three.

The first half dozen journeys were more or less secret, so that the express service did not become known to the general public. Then the news inevitably leaked out. Danny Randall thereupon openly received shipments and gave receipts at the Bella Union. It seemed to me only a matter of time before the express messengers should be waylaid, for the treasure they carried was worth any one’s while. I spoke to Randall about it one day.

“If Amijo or Murietta or Dick Temple were in this 297 part of the country, I’d agree with you,” said he seriously, “but they are not, and there’s nobody in this lot of cheap desperadoes around here that has the nerve. Those three boys have a big reputation as fighters; their horses are good; they constantly vary their route and their times of starting; and Johnny in especial has a foxy head on him.”

“The weak point is the place they change horses,” said I.

Randall looked at me quickly, as though surprised.

“Why, that’s true,” said he; “not a doubt of it. But I’ve got five armed men there to look after just that. And another thing you must remember: they know that Danny Randall is running this show.”

Certainly, thought I, Danny at least appreciates himself; and yet, after all, I do not think he in any way exaggerated the terror his name inspired.