Over on the Dry Side by Louis L’Amour

doing is following a dream. Somebody told a story once, and then it was told again and again and each time it got bigger. A Chantry riding out of the desert with treasure in gold on him. With a Mowatt. How did they carry all that vast treasure?”
    Strawn, Chantry could see, was half convinced. But Freka wasn’t even listening. In fact, he was making a great show of ignoring the talk.
    â€œHot air,” Freka said. “Mowatt’s no fool. He knows what he’s about.”
    â€œLike a hundred other foolish prospectors roaming these mountains to the east of us, hunting for gold they’ll never see.” Chantry emptied his cup. “Just thought I’d lay it on the line, Jake. You know me, and I know you.”
    â€œSo why’re you here?” Freka demanded.
    â€œA good question, Freka. I’ve had a brother killed, and that’s a part of it. The rest is something you’d not likely grasp.
    â€œI’ve been up and down and across this country. I’ve gambled and fought, and I’ve killed men for reasons that might seem slight. I’ve fought in cattle wars, and town-site battles, for railroad rights of way and just about everything else. I’ve never had much and never expect to have, but I’d give ten years of my life to add just one little bit to the knowledge of the world.
    â€œWe Chantrys have a failing, Freka. We like to finish what we start. I know the history of my family for two hundred years the way you know the trail to Santa Fe. And we’ve always finished what we started, or died in the trying. It’s a kind of stubbornness…damned foolishness, maybe.
    â€œLook, Strawn, a million years or more ago men began to accumulate learning. Over the years more bits and pieces of knowledge have been added and all of it is building a wall to shut out ignorance.
    â€œI think what Clive Chantry brought back from Mexico was a piece of the pattern, his brick for the wall. Maybe it was a clue to a lost civilization, maybe a treatment for some killing disease, maybe a better way to grow a crop. Maybe it’s one of the books of the Mayas that didn’t burn. The one thing I know is that it wasn’t gold.”
    Freka yawned. “Jake, let’s ride. This talk is puttin’ me to sleep.” He got up. “You talk mighty well, Chantry, but I don’t buy it, not even a piece of it.”
    Strawn got up. “You suggestin’ I lay off, Chantry?”
    â€œNo. We’re mercenaries, you and me. We’re paid warriors. All I’m asking is that you make sure the payoff is there. If I got up against a man of your caliber, I want to be sure I’m getting paid for it, one way or another. And I’ll be paid, that I know. But what will you get out of it?
    â€œIf we lock horns, Jake, one of us is going to die. There’s a better than even chance that both of us will. I’ve seen you in action, and you’re good. Damned good. I believe you’ve seen me in action, too.”
    â€œI have.”
    â€œWell, make Mowatt come up with something more than hot air.”
    â€œMowatt knows something. He doesn’t go off half-cocked.”
    â€œNo? How many times has he told of a Wells-Fargo treasure chest that was supposed to be loaded with gold…and then it turned up empty?”
    â€œMaybe you’re right, Chantry. But Freka won’t buy it. He wants to kill. And he’s good, Chantry, damn good.”
    â€œI hope when I find out how good he is you don’t have me in a cross fire, Jake.”
    â€œHell, I fight my own battles. You and him…I’d kind of like to see that.”
    Strawn picked up his hat and followed Jake and Freka, who had gone outside. “See you, Owen.” He paused. “I’ll talk to the old man.”
    Owen Chantry stood in the door and watched them ride away.
    Kernohan slowly approached the house. “What was all that about?”
    â€œStrawn and Freka,