As to the town, Bill told them much that had happened.  Politics were still turbulent; but Perkins’ gang of hoodlums was fairly wiped out, and the Committee was working systematically and openly for the best interests of the town.  There had been a hanging the week before; a public hanging in the square, after a trial as fair as any court properly authorized could give.

“Not much like that farce they pulled off that day with Jack,” asserted Bill.  “Real lawyers, we had, and real evidence for and against the feller, and tried him for real murder.  Things are cooling down fast, up there, and you can walk the streets now without hanging onto your money with one hand and your gun with the other.  Jack and you can come back any time.  And say, Jack!” Having heard his voice beyond the vines, Bill made bold to call him somewhat peremptorily.

“There’s some gold left, you know, that belongs to you.  I didn’t send it all down; didn’t like the looks of that—­er—­” He checked himself on the point of saying greaser.  “And seeing you’re located down here for the summer, and don’t need it, why don’t you put it into lots?  You two can pick up a couple of lots that will grow into good money, one of these days.  Fact is, I’ve got a couple in mind.  I’d like to see you fellows get some money to workin’ for you.  This horseback riding is too blamed risky.”

“That looks reasonable to me,” said Dade.  “We’ve got the mine, of course, but the town ought to go on growing, and lots should be a good place to sink a thousand or two.  I’ve got a little that ain’t working.”  Then seeing the inquiring look in the eyes of Don Andres, he explained to him what Bill had suggested.

Don Andres nodded his white head approvingly.  “The Senor Weelson is right,” he said.  “You would do well, amigos, to heed his advice.”

“Just as Jack says,” Dade concluded; and Jack amended that statement by saying it was just as Bill said.  If Bill knew of a lot or two and thought it would be a good investment, he could buy them in their names.  And Bill snorted at their absolute lack of business instinct and let the subject drop into the background with the remark that, for men that had come west with the gold fever, they surely did seem to care very little about the gold they came after.

“The fun of finding it is good enough,” declared Jack, unashamed, “so long as we have all we need.  And when we need more than we’ve got, there’s the mine; we can always find more.  Just now—­”

He waved his cigarette towards the darkening hills; and in the little silence that followed they heard the sweet, high tenor of a vaquero somewhere, singing plaintively a Spanish love-song.  When the voice trailed into a mournful, minor “Adios, adios,” a robin down in the orchard added a brief, throaty note of his own.

Bill sighed and eased his stiffened muscles in the big chair.  “Well, I don’t blame either one of you,” he drawled somewhat wistfully.  “If I was fifteen years limberer and fifty pounds slimmer, I dunno but what I’d set into this ranch game myself.  It’s sure peaceful.”