I got back here."

"That is so, Jerry. You know he had a bit of a place up in the hills,
four or five miles from here, where he lived with that Indian wife of
his when he was not away. I went out to see him a day or two afore he
died. I asked him if there was anything I could do for him. He said no,
his squaw would get on well enough there. She had been alone most of her
time, and would wrestle on just as well when he had gone under. He had a
big garden-patch which she cultivated, and brought the things down into
the town here. They always fetch a good price. Why more people don't
grow them I can't make out; it would pay better than gold-seeking, you
bet. He had a few hundred dollars laid by, and he said they might come
in handy to her if she fell sick, or if things went hard in winter.
Well, you remember his gun?"

"In course--his gun was nigh as well known as Billy himself. He used to
call it Plumb-centre. You don't mean to say she hasn't sold it?"

"She hasn't; at least I should have been sure to hear if she had. I know
several of the boys who went to the funeral wanted to buy it, and
offered her long prices for it too; but she wouldn't trade. I will ride
over there this evening and see what I can do about it. She will sell to
me if she sells to anyone, for she knows I was a great chum of Billy's,
and I have done her a few good turns. She broke her leg some years back
when he was away, and luckily enough I chanced to ride over there the
next day. Being alone and without anyone to help, she would have got on
badly. I sent a surgeon up to her, and got a redskin woman to go up to
nurse her. I don't wonder she did not like to sell Billy's piece, seeing
he was so famous with it, and I feel sure money would not do it; but
perhaps I can talk her into it."