Buck was good to look at, so strong, so calmly reliant. Every glance of his big brown eyes suggested latent power. He was not strikingly handsome, but the pronounced nose, the level, wide brows, the firm mouth and clean-shaven chin, lifted him far out of the common. He was clad simply. But his dress was perfectly suitable to the life of the farmer-hunter which was his. His white moleskin trousers were tucked into the tops of his Wellington boots, and a cartridge belt, from which hung a revolver and holster, was slung about his waist. His upper covering was a simple, gray flannel shirt, gaping wide open across his sunburnt chest, and his modest-hued silk handkerchief tied loosely about his neck.
“Leeson Butte’s getting quite a city,” Buck went on presently.
“That’s so,” replied the Padre, still bent upon his own thoughts.
After that it was quite a minute before either spoke. Yet there seemed to be no awkwardness.
Finally it was the Padre who broached the matters that lay between them.
“I got ten thousand dollars for it!” he said.
“The farm?” Buck’s interrogation was purely mechanical. He knew well enough that the other had purposely gone to Leeson Butte to sell the farm on which they had both lived so long.
The Padre nodded.
“A fancy price,” he said. “The lawyers closed quick. It was a woman bought it. I didn’t see her, though she was stopping at the hotel. I figured on getting seven thousand five hundred dollars, and only asked ten thousand dollars as a start. Guess the woman must have wanted it bad. Maybe she’s heard they’re prospecting gold around. Well, anyway she ought to get some luck with it, she’s made it easy for us to help the folks.”
Buck’s eyes were steadily fixed on the horses.
“It makes me feel bad seeing those fellers chasin’ gold, and never a color to show – an’ all the while their womenfolk an’ kiddies that thin for food you can most see their shadows through ’em.”
The eyes of the elder man brightened. The other’s words had helped to hearten him. He had felt keenly the parting with his farm after all those years of labor and association. Yet, to a mind such as his, it had been impossible to do otherwise. How could he stand by watching a small community, such as he was surrounded with, however misguided in their search for gold, painfully and doggedly starving before his very eyes? For the men perhaps his sympathy might have been less keen, but the poor, long-suffering women and the helpless children – the thought was too painful. No, he and Buck had but their two selves to think of. They had powerful hands with which to help themselves. Those others were helpless – the women and children.
There was compensation in his sacrifice when he remembered the large orders for edible stores he had placed with the merchants of Leeson Butte before leaving that town.
“There’s a heap of food coming along for them presently,” he said after a pause.
Buck nodded.
“I’ve been settin’ that old fur fort to rights, way up in the hills back ther’,” he said, pointing vaguely behind them. “Guess we’d best move up ther’ now the farm’s – sold. We’ll need a few bits of furniture from the farm. That right – now you’ve sold it?”
“Yes. I made that arrangement. She didn’t seem to mind anything I suggested. She must be a bully sort of woman. I’m sorry I didn’t see her. The lawyer says she comes from St. Ellis.”
“Young?” suggested Buck.
The Padre shook his head.
“I wouldn’t say so. A young woman with money wouldn’t be likely to hide herself in these hills.”
“That’s so. Guess it’s the gold fetching her – the gold that isn’t here.”
“Gold’s a cursed thing,” said the Padre reflectively.
“Yet none of ’em seem to shy at the curse.” Buck smiled in his slow way.
“No. Not without experiencing it.” The Padre’s eyes were still serious. Then he went on, “We shan’t farm any up there – at the fur fort?”
Buck shook his head.
“It means clearing every inch of land we need. Guess we best hunt, as we said. We’ll make out with pelts. There’s the whole mountains for traps.”
The other stared over at the horses, and his face was very grave. After a while he turned directly to his companion, and his eyes were mildly anxious.
“See here, Buck,” he said, with what seemed unnecessary emphasis. “I’ve thought a heap on the way back – home. It seems to me I’m not acting square by you. And I’ve made up my mind.” He paused. Buck did not change his position, and his eyes were carefully avoiding those of his companion. Then the Padre went on with a decision that somehow lacked confidence. “You must take half the money, and – and get busy your own way. We’ve done farming, so there’s no reason for you to hang around here. You’re a man now, and you’ve your way to make in the world. You see, when we had the farm I thought it was good for you. It would be yours when I died, and then who knows, in time, how valuable it might become? Now it’s all different. You see the hills are best for me.” He smiled strainedly. “They’ve always been good friends to me. But – ”
“Yes, you don’t fancy leavin’ the hills.” Buck’s eyes wore a curious expression. They were half-smiling, half-angry. But the other could not see them. The Padre jumped eagerly at his words.
“Just so. I’ve known them so long now that there doesn’t seem to be any other world for me. Even Leeson Butte makes me feel – er – strange.”
Buck nodded. Then he changed the subject.
“Say, we don’t sleep at the farm to-night,” he said. “The blankets are up at the old fort. That’s why I got around here. When’s she comin’ along?”
“In two or three days.” The Padre had no choice but to follow the younger man’s lead. “She’s sending along a farm woman first. She’s going to run the place herself.”
“Ther’s no man comin’?” Buck half turned to his friend.
“I don’t think so.”
“They can’t do it – hereabouts,” Buck retorted quickly. “That farm needs a man.”
“Yes.”
Buck rose abruptly and went over to the horses.
“Going?” inquired the Padre.
“I’ll get along with the vittles, and hand ’em over to the boys. Guess I’ll git back to the fort in a few hours.”
The Padre sat hesitating. He watched the movements of his companion without observing them.
“Buck!”
The other paused as he was about to put his foot into the stirrup. He glanced over his shoulder.
“Yes?”
“About that money. There’s five thousand of it yours.”
“Not on your life, Padre!”
The elder man sighed as he stood up, and his look changed so that it almost seemed as if a weight had been lifted from his mind. Their eyes met as Buck swung himself into the saddle.
“Then we’re going to the hills – together?” he said smilingly.
“Sure,” responded Buck promptly. Then he added, “But we’re goin’ to hunt – not farm.”
His decisive manner left no room for doubt, and the Padre, moving over to him, held out his hand. They gripped till the elder man winced.
“I’m glad I found you on the trail that time,” he said, looking squarely into the steady brown eyes. “I’ve always been glad, but – I’m gladder still now.”
“Me,