Scotty delivered the telegram to his mate, who set off at a gallop for Tucson.  Between them they covered the forty miles in four hours, or a little less.  Before sunset an auto set out from Silverbell, bearing the message to Cobre.

* * * * *

At that same sunset time, while Pete Johnson and his friends were yet far from Coyote Pass, Mayer Zurich, in Cobre, spoke harshly to Mr. Oscar Mitchell.

“I don’t know where you get any finger in this pie,” he said implacably.  “You didn’t pay me to find any mines for you.  You hired me to hound your cousin; and I’ve hounded him to jail.  That lets you out.  I wouldn’t push the matter if I were you.  This isn’t New York.  Things happen providentially out here when men persist in shoving in where they’re not wanted.”

“I have thought of that,” said Mitchell, “and have taken steps to safeguard myself.  It may be worth your while to know that I have copies of all your letters and reports.  I brought them to Arizona with me.  I have left them in the hands of my confidential clerk, at a place unknown to you, with instructions to place them in the hands of the sheriff of this county unless I return to claim them in person within ten days, and to proceed accordingly.”

Zurich stared at him and laughed in a coarse, unfeeling manner.  “Oh, you did, hey?  Did you think of that all by yourself?  Did it ever occur to you that I have your instructions, over your own signature, filed away, and that they would make mighty interesting reading?  Your clerk can proceed accordingly any time he gets good and ready.  Go on, man!  You make me tired!  You’ve earned no share in this mine, and you’ll get no share unless you pay well for it.  If we find the mine, we’ll need cash money, to be sure; but if we find it, we can get all the money we want without yours.  Go on away!  You bother me!”

“I have richly earned a share without putting in any money,” said Mitchell with much dignity.  “This man Johnson, that you fear so much—­I have laid him by the heels for several years to come, and left you a clear field.  Is that nothing?”

“You poor, blundering, meddling, thick-headed fool,” said Zurich unpleasantly; “can’t you see what you’ve done?  You’ve locked up our best chance to lay a finger on that mine.  Now I’ll have to get your Cousin Stanley out of jail; and that won’t be easy.”

“What for?”

“So I can watch him and get hold of the copper claim, of course.”

“Why don’t you leave him in jail and hunt for the claim till you find it?” demanded lawyer Mitchell, willing to defer his triumph until the moment when it should be most effective.