“Um!...” said Scattergood, faintly, and leaned against the wall.  “You would come rammin’ in,” said the gentleman with the shotgun.  “Now I calc’late you got to stay.”

Scattergood grinned amiably.  “Vallyble loaves of bread you got there,” he said.

“Gold,” said the man, succinctly.

“Hain’t no mines around here, be there?”

“We hain’t sayin’.  But that there gold come from a mine, all right—­sometime.”

“Calc’late you been robbin’ a train or somethin’,” said Scattergood, mildly.  “Now don’t git het up.  ‘Tain’t none of my business.  Doin’ robbin’ for a reg’lar livin’?” he asked, innocently.

“Hain’t never done none before—­” began one of the men, but his companion directed him to “shut up and stay shut.”

“No harm talkin’ ’s I kin see.  We got these fellers here and here they stay till we git clean off.  Kind of like to tell somebody the joke.”

“I’m doggone int’rested,” said Scattergood.

The rough individual with the gun laughed loudly.  “May’s well tell you,” he said, raucously.  “Me and the boys was in town yestiddy, calc’latin’ to ship some ferns by express.  Went into the office.  Agent wa’n’t there.  Safe was.  Open.  Ya-as, wide open.  We seen three gold chunks inside, and nobody around watchin’.  Looked full better ’n ferns, so we jest took a notion to carry ’em out to the wagin and drive off....  Now we got it, I’m dummed if I know what to do with it.  Hear tell it’s wuth fifty thousand dollars.”

Mr. Bowman spoke.  “You’ll find it mighty hard to dispose of.”

“Don’t need to worry you.”

“Suppose you could sell it for a fair price, cash, and get away with the money?”

“That’s our aim.”

“Mr. Baines,” said Bowman, “there’s money in this if you aren’t too particular.”

“Hain’t p’tic’lar a-tall.  How you mean?”

“What would you say to buying this gold—­at a reasonable price?  I can dispose of it—­through channels I am acquainted with.  You can put in the money we were going for, and I’ll put in some more.  Ought to show a handsome profit.”

“Might nigh double my money, maybe, eh?  Figger that?  Gimme twict as much to buy stock with.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Let’s dicker.”

“What will you men take to walk away and leave that gold?”

“Forty thousand.”

“Fiddlesticks.  I’ll give you ten—­and you’re clear of the whole mess.”

There was a wrangle.  For half an hour the dicker went on, and finally a price of fifteen thousand dollars was agreed upon.  Mr. Bowman was to pay over the money, and Scattergood was to contribute his five thousand dollars as soon as they got it.  For one third of the profits.

The money was paid over; the three robbers disappeared with alacrity, leaving Scattergood and Bowman with the stolen gold.

“We can take it along in the buggy, covered with ferns,” said Bowman.  “Nobody’ll suspect you.”