Why, I've seen teams that
could do wonders in that there run that couldn't git as fur as Council
in the Big Race without goin' t' pieces. It takes somethin' more'n a
slinkin' half-breed like him t' lead a winnin' team in the Sweepstakes."
And Moose would retort sarcastically, "Mart, ef you was as good a judge
o' dogs as dogs is o' you--stop growlin' at him, Baldy--you'd have a
winnin' team in yourself, instead o' just jawin' about it."
One man's enmity mattered but little, however, in the general
friendliness Baldy experienced; and there were so many glorious things
to offset those infrequent encounters with the one person he
instinctively regarded with aversion.
Encouraging news had come from Dime Creek, and Golconda was proving rich
beyond the highest expectations of Jones; and many happy hours did he
and Ben spend in plans for the boy's future; a future that now seemed
near and bright.
"Even without Golconda, Ben," Moose would exclaim confidently, "I've got
enough salted away from them other deals to put you through all the book
learnin' you'll need t' make a reg'lar spell-bindin' lawyer o' you like
Fink, er a way up Judge, mebbe in Washington. An' with Golconda,--well,
Sonny, that there Arabian Nights chap that she was tellin' you about
wouldn't have nothin' on us fer adventure, an' doin' good turns to folks
unbeknownst, an' all that kind o' stuff," and Moose Jones would pat
the boy's shoulder affectionately.
Every week or so Baldy, with Irish and Rover and some of the Wild Goose
dogs from the Grand Central Ditch House near, would be hitched to a flat
car belonging to the place, and would have a trip into town with Moose
to take the gold dust from the "clean-ups" to the bank.
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