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The Trail of the Golden Horn

Hugo blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “Now, what are you going to do then?”

“I have not the least idea. Go outside, I suppose, and begin all over again. The outlook is not very bright, I assure you.”

“And having a wife will make it all the more difficult, eh?”

“Perhaps so. But something will turn up.”

“Now, suppose something should turn up here before you go out, how would that suit you?”

“Very well, indeed. But what do you mean?”

“How would you like to do some mining?”

“Not on your life, unless I can strike something rich. I do not feel inclined to spend the rest of my days following the will o’ wisp of gold. I have seen too much of it. Why, there are many men wandering about this country hoping and hoping in vain for a rich find.”

“But suppose the gold is already found, what then?”

“That would make a big difference.”

“Certainly it would, and that’s why I have mentioned it. Now listen. I know where there is gold, plenty of it. I struck it rich several years ago in a creek away to the south of us, and I am the only one who knows where it is.”

“You did!” The sergeant as well as all the others were keenly interested now. Even Rolfe paused in his writing to listen.

“Yes, I struck it rich,” Hugo repeated, “but never intended to make use of it. I never expected to have any need of it, and did not report my discovery. During those years when I thought that I was being followed by the Police I was very vindictive and gloated over the thought that I knew where there was gold,