“Yes, sah; Mass Swanson got a pile of gold laid up for a rainy day, suah.”

The Doctor continued: 

“He’s had more than the average run of good luck the last few years.  He told me the other day that he only lost a few head all year, and was just going to ship a big lot to Chicago.”

Cummings, blowing a blue column of tobacco smoke toward the rafters, said: 

“It’s always been a question to me where he keeps his money.  There’s no bank around here.”

“Oh! he’s a shrewd old chap, Swanson is,” replied the Doctor.  He has a private bank somewhere near here probably.”

“Seems to me that would be pretty risky,” said Cummings.  “If he keeps it planted around here what would hinder some one from finding the cache and getting off with the plunder?”

“I made that very remark to him,” the Doctor answered; “and he laughed and said it would take something smarter than a cowboy or an Injun to find it, but there are others beside cowboys and Injuns that come this way,” with a meaning smile.  Cummings noted the smile, and glancing at Moriarity, said: 

“How would you go at it, Doctor, if you were to make the attempt?”

The Doctor laughed quietly, as if he appreciated the joke, and leaning back in his chair, his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, his feet stretched on a chair before him, he answered: 

“Well, Cummings, I don’t know as I would like to do it.  Swanson’s a good friend of mine, and—­”

“Hang it all, man, who the devil asked you to do it?” replied Jim, hotly.  “I was only joking; do you think I wanted you to—­”

“Not at all, my dear fellow, not at all,” said the Doctor, in a soothing tone.  “No one supposed for a minute that you thought of such a thing, but if I was going to do a job like that I wouldn’t care to do it alone.  Two, certainly not more than three, more to help would be necessary.  I would go at it about this way:  The first thing would be to find out where Swanson kept his money.  It is doubtless kept in close proximity to this place, evidently well secreted, for Swanson is not a man to let his right hand know what his left hand is doing.  I think I would be apt to get him full some evening, then let him win a big pot from me in poker, and, feigning drunkenness, I would watch very keenly what he did with the money.  You may depend on it, it is somewhere in this house.  After I ascertained the hiding-place I would surprise the old fellow in his sleep with the aid of my confederates, and gagging him, and then binding his arms and feet, would rob his bank at my pleasure.  That is the way I should do it.”

Cummings had followed every word, nodding his approval and manifesting his interest in various ways, and, without noticing what he was saying, muttered to himself, but so loud that the Doctor overheard it, “Just the way I would do it, and I will yet.”

“What makes you think Swanson keeps his wealth on the premises, Doctor?” asked Moriarity.