“I’ll hay it,” said Carr.

“All right—­hay it, by all means.  Take your first load of water out about twenty-five miles and leave it—­using as little as you can to camp on.  You’ll have to have three full sets of chains and whiffletrees for your six-horse team, of course.  You can’t bother with dragging a buckboard along behind to take ’em back with.  Go back to the railroad, take a second load of water, camp the first night out at your first wagon, and leave the second load of water farther south, twenty-five miles or so.

“Then go back to the Gila and pack the rest of your plunder in this wagon of yours, all ready to start the minute you get a telegram from me.  Wire back to me so I’ll know when to start.  You will have water for your horses at twenty-five miles and fifty, and enough left to use when you go back for your next trip.  After that we’ll have other men to help you.

“When you leave the last wagon, put on all the water your horses can draw.  You’ll strike little or no sand after that and we’ll need all the water we can get.  With no bad luck, you come out opposite the south end of your black mountain the third day.  Wait there for us.  It’s three long days, horseback, from Tucson; we ought to get to your camp that night.

“If we don’t come, wait till noon the next day.  Then saddle up, take your pack-saddles and kegs, and drag it for the extreme south end of the mountains on your west, about twenty miles.  That ought to leave enough water at the wagon for us to camp on if we come later.  If you wait for us, your horses will use it all up.

“When you come to the south end of your Cabeza Prieta Mountain, right spang on the border, you’ll find a canon there, coming down from the north, splitting the range.  Turn up that canon, and when it gets so rough you can’t go any farther, keep right on; you’ll find some rock tanks full of water, in a box where the sun can’t get ’em.  That’s all.  Got that?”

“I’ve got it,” said Carr.  “But Pete, aren’t you taking too long a chance?  Why can’t I—­or both of us—­just slip down there quietly and do enough work on your mine to hold it?  They’re liable to beat you to it.”

“I’ve been tryin’ to make myself believe that a long time,” said Pete earnestly; “but I am far too intelligent.  These people are capable of any rudeness.  And they are strictly on the lookout.  I do not count myself timid, but I don’t want to tackle it.  That mine ain’t worth over six or eight millions at best.”

“But they won’t be watching me,” said Carr.

“Maybe not.  I hope not.  For one thing, you’ll have a good excuse to pull out from Cobre.  You won’t get any freighting here.  Old Zurich has got it all grabbed and contracted for.  All you could get would be a subcontract, giving you a chance to do the work and let Zurich take the profit.