"Hughes says there isn't anything."
"My God, what liars some people are! He—why he don't know a bit of quartz from a brickbat. Nothing in it! What's he pegged out all that ground for—seventy-five acres—if there ain't nothing in it?"
"Now, don't go off your head," I said, "I know there's something in it, but Hughes thinks I'm going to peg out and wants to get ahead of me. Now, Higgins, what's to be done? I don't know the track to Buchanan, nor do you—it's pitch dark—the moon won't be up for an hour and I'll bet you drinks they're off to Buchanan the minute they can see."
Higgins cursed his own stupidity in not making me go out to Buchanan before and almost wept. Buchanan had been his pet scheme. He hadn't the money to take up ground, but I had, so he had trusted to me. Now what was to be done?
"Higgins," said I solemnly, "I have a plan."
"My God—what?" cried the old fellow, excitedly.
"You must get drunk, Higgins."
"I—drunk!—Good God, I never did such a thing in my life!"
"Well, Higgins, you must do it now. The fate of Buchanan depends on your getting drunk."
"I can't do it, sir—I can't do it."
"Very well, if you can't you can't."
"My principles, sir!"
"Somebody's got to or we lose Buchanan."
"I've never touched a drop since I came on the field. It would be such a scandal!" The old man paused and thought. "Why must I get drunk?"
"To give me time."
"What for?"
"To save Buchanan."
"For God's sake, how can my getting drunk save Buchanan?"
"Higgins, I know Hughes is going to get ahead of
