The storekeeper there's
a great soaker, nearly always on the drink. Name's Sampson. He'll
tell you where to find Tommy Prince. Prince and his mates have a
claim twelve miles out from there, and if Tommy ain't gone to the
Oriental, he might go down with you."
"Supposing Tommy's at his claim, twelve miles out," said Hugh, "how
can I get out?"
"I dunno," said the storekeeper, who was getting tired of talking
so long without a drink. "I dunno how you'll get out there. Better
have a drink--what'll you have?"
Hugh walked out of the store in despair. He found himself engaged
in what appeared to be an endless chase after a phantom Considine,
and the difficulties in his way semed insuperable. Yet how could
he go back and tell them all at home that he had failed? What
would they think of him? The thought made him miserable; and he
determined, if he failed, never to go back to the old station at
all.
So he returned to his hotel, packed his valise, and set out to look
for the pack-horse man. He found him fairly sober; soon bargained
to be allowed to ride one of the horses, and in due course was
deposited at the Margaret--a city consisting of one galvanised-iron
building, apparently unoccupied. His friend dismounted and had a
drink with him out of his flask. They kicked at the door unavailingly;
then his mate went on into the indefinite, leaving him face to face
with general desolation.
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