Now the fruit, of which this little soliloquy was the opening blossom,
matured on the second day after Ford and Frisbie had started out on the
mysterious hunting trip across the range. Pacheco, the half-breed
Mexican who freighted provisions by jack train to the mining-camps on
the head waters of the Pannikin, came in to report to the chief clerk.

"Well, 'Checo, what did you find out?" was the curt inquiry.

The half-breed spread his palms.

"W'at I see, I know. Dey'll not gone for hunt much. One day out, dey'll
make-a da camp and go for squint t'rough spy-glass, so"--making an
imaginary transit telescope of his hands. "Den dey'll measure h-on da
groun' and squint some more, so."

Penfield nodded and a gold piece changed hands silently.

"That's all, 'Checo; much obliged. Don't say anything about this over in
the camp. Mr. Ford said he was going hunting, and that's what we'll say,
if anybody asks us."

That night the chief clerk sent a brief cipher telegram to the general
manager at Denver.

Ford and his new track supervisor, who is really a high-priced
constructing engineer, gone over the range for a month's absence.
Gave it out here that they were going after big game, but they took
a transit and are picking up the line of the old S. L. & W.
extension in the upper Pannikin.