There's no one else, that I know of, can find them
for you. Lord knows where they are. They camp in one place till
the buffalo are all shot, and then they shift to new ground. Perhaps
ten miles, perhaps thirty. Have another drink? What'll you have?"
"No, not any more, thanks. About this Tommy Prince, now; if I can
find him he might tell me where to go. Where can I find him?"
"Down at the Margaret is where he camps, but I think he's gone to
the Oriental by this time--sure to be. That's about forty miles
down past the Margaret. There was a fellow came in from the Margaret
for supplies, and he'll be going back to-morrow--if he can find
his pack-horses."
"And supposing he can't?"
"Well, then, he'll go out next week, I expect, unless he gets on
the drink. He's a terrible chap to drink."
"And if he starts to drink, when will he go?"
"Lord knows. They'll have to send in after him. His mates'll
be pretty near starved by now, anyhow. He's been in town, foolin'
round that girl at the Royal this three weeks. He'll give you a
lift out to the Margaret--that's forty miles."
"What is there out at the Margaret when I get there? Is it a town,
or a station, or a mine? What is it?"
"Oh, it's not so bad. There's a store there, and a few mines
scattered about. Mostly Chinese mines.
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