Big Bill Macy accepted the job with a grin. There was double pay in it both for him and the men he chose as his assistants. He had never liked old Holt anyhow. Besides, they were not going to do him any harm.
Holt was baking a batch of sour-dough bread that evening when there came a knock at the cabin door. At sight of Big Bill and his two companions the prospector closed the oven and straightened with alert suspicion. He was not on visiting terms with any of these men. Why had they come to see him? He asked point-blank the question in his mind.
"We're going prospecting up Wild-Goose Creek, and we want you to go along, Gid," explained Macy. "You're an old sour-dough miner, and we-all agree we'd like to have you throw-in with us. What say?"
The old miner's answer was direct but not flattering. "What do I want to go on a wild-goose mush with a bunch of bums for?" he shrilled.
Bill Macy scratched his hook nose and looked reproachfully at his host. At least Holt thought he was looking at him. One could not be sure, for Bill's eyes did not exactly track.
"That ain't no kind o' way to talk to a fellow when he comes at you with a fair proposition, Gid."
"You tell Selfridge I ain't going to leave Kamatlah--not right now. I'm going to stay here on the job till that Land Office inspector comes--and then I'm going to have a nice, long, confidential chat with him. See?"
"What's the use of snapping at me like a turtle? Durden says Wild-Goose looks fine. There's gold up there--heaps of it."
"Let it stay there, then. I ain't going. That's flat." Holt turned to adjust the damper of his stove.
"Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't say that," drawled Bill insolently.
The man at the stove caught the change in tone and turned quickly. He was too late. Macy had thrown himself forward and the weight of his body flung Holt against the wall. Before the miner could recover, the other two men were upon him. They bore him to the floor and in spite of his struggles tied him hand and foot.
Big Bill rose and looked down derisively at his prisoner. "Better change your mind and go with us, Holt. We'll spend a quiet month up at the headquarters of Wild-Goose. Say you'll come along."
"You'll go to prison for this, Bill Macy."