compressed lips and sharp black eyes did not lend themselves much to
that hypothesis--"only get out of this with that stuff, and take Barker
with you! I'm not responsible for myself while it's here."
Demorest knew Stacy to be combative, but practical. If he had not been
assured of his partner's last night slumbers he might have thought he
knew of the attempt. Or if he had discovered the turned-up ground in
the rear of the cabin his curiosity would have demanded an explanation.
Demorest paused only for a moment, and said, "Very well, I will go."
"Good! I'll rouse out Barker, but not a word to him--except that he must
go."
The rousing out of Barker consisted of Stacy's lifting that young
gentleman bodily from his bunk and standing him upright in the open
doorway. But Barker was accustomed to this Spartan process, and after a
moment's balancing with closed lids like an unwrapped mummy, he sat
down in the doorway and began to dress. He at first demurred to their
departure except all together--it was so unfraternal; but eventually
he allowed himself to be persuaded out of it and into his clothes. For
Barker had also had HIS visions in the night, one of which was that they
should build a beautiful villa on the site of the old cabin and solemnly
agree to come every year and pass a week in it together. "I thought at
first," he said, sliding along the floor in search of different articles
of his dress, or stopping gravely to catch them as they were thrown to
him by his partners, "that we'd have it at Boomville, as being handier
to get there; but I've concluded we'd better have it here, a little
higher up the hill, where it could be seen over the whole Black Spur
Range. When we weren't here we could use it as a Hut of Refuge for
broken-down or washed-out miners or weary travelers, like those hospices
in the Alps, you know, and have somebody to keep it for us. You see I've
thought even of THAT, and Van Loo is the very man to take charge of it
for us. You see he's got such good manners and speaks two languages.
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