"'Your nugget's been seen, and sawed, and smeltered. Got that? As part of
the skulduggery they been slippin' to young Stan, your package has been
opened,' says Petey, leerin' at me. 'Great Scott! Then they know we got
just about the richest mine in Arizona!' I says, with my teeth chatterin'
so that I stammers. 'Gosh, no! Else the coyotes would be pickin' your
bones,' says Pete. 'They know you've got some rich ore, but they figure
it to be some narrow, pinchin', piddlin' little vein somewheres. How can
they guess you found a solid mountain of the stuff?'

"'Sufferin' cats!' says I. 'Then is every play I make--henceforth and
forever, amen--to be gaumed up by a mess of hirelin' bandogs? Persecutin'
Stan was all very well--but if they take to molesting me any, it's
going to make my blood fairly boil! Is some one going to draw down wages
for makin' me mizzable all the rest of my whole life?' 'No such luck,'
says Petey. 'Your little ore package was taken from the mail as part of
the system of pesterin' Stanley--but, once the big boss-devil glued his
bug-eyes on that freeworkin' copper stuff, he throwed up his employer
and his per diem, and is now operating roundabout on his own. They take
it you might have papers about you showing where your claim is--location
papers, likely. That's all! These ducks, here, want to go through you.
Nobody wants to kill you--not now. Not yet--any more than usual. But, if
you ask me,' said Petey, 'if they ever come to know as much about that
copper claim as you know, they'll do you up. Yes, sir! From ambush,
likely. So long as they are dependin' on you to lead them to it, you're
safe from that much, maybe. After they find out where it is--_cuidado!_'

"'But who took that package out of the mail, Petey? It might have been
any one of several or more--old Zurich, here at Cobre; or the postmaster
at Silverbell; or the postal clerks on the railroad; or the post-office
people at El Paso.'