on Lefty after he had heard him read the Song of Solomon aloud. And he was not mistaken.
"Two to one, Healy," said Stone, smiling, after Lefty had cast his vote.
Healy glared.
"If you're going to spoil our chances for a lot of damned sentiment" he demurred.
"It was sentiment from Lyman that gave us any chance at all," replied Stone. "Anyway, the stuff goes in the coffin."
After the burial Healy recovered all his old smoothness of manner. They had found no trace of Lowe save the information that he had ridden in alone from Rhyolite as the stage's only passenger and had inquired as to the establishment of an assayer at Skyfields. He had come from Tonopah, he said.
"Well," commenced Healy, after their first meal in the cabin, following the burial. "Our interests are pooled. Suppose we pool our information? Then we can arrange for the sale of the 'Foursome' and plan the trip?"
"It's a go," said Lefty before Stone could say anything. "Wat Lyman started with you, Healy. Sling us the dope."
Healy's lips parted slightly, showing his teeth.
"Suppose we start with the big end of it first," he suggested, affably. "Then we'll know what we're going after. What's the big secret of that Madre d'Oro, Stone?"
Stone grinned.
"You proposed the game, Healy. It's your lead."
