The whole North would feel a healthful reaction
from the Kamatlah activities. So, on the theory that the end sometimes
justifies doubtful means, he shut his eyes to many acts that in his own
private affairs he would not have countenanced.
"Better arrange it with Big Bill, then, but don't tell me anything about
it. I don't want to know the details," he told Selfridge.
Big Bill Macy accepted the job with a grin. There was double pay in it
both for him and the men he chose as his assistants. He had never liked
old Holt anyhow. Besides, they were not going to do him any harm.
Holt was baking a batch of sour-dough bread that evening when there came
a knock at the cabin door. At sight of Big Bill and his two companions
the prospector closed the oven and straightened with alert suspicion.
He was not on visiting terms with any of these men. Why had they come
to see him? He asked point-blank the question in his mind.
"We're going prospecting up Wild-Goose Creek, and we want you to go
along, Gid," explained Macy. "You're an old sour-dough miner, and we-all
agree we'd like to have you throw-in with us. What say?"
The old miner's answer was direct but not flattering. "What do I want to
go on a wild-goose mush with a bunch of bums for?" he shrilled.
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