If you don't feel like stakin' me for the trip, I'll go back to Lund and have a talk with Bill.

Bill's a good old scout and he'll stake me to an outfit, anyway." That was merely Casey's inborn optimism speaking.

Bill was a good old scout, all right, but if he would grubstake Casey to go hunting the Injun Jim mine, then Bill had changed considerably.
The upshot of it was that we left Starvation the next morning, headed for town.

And two days after that I had pulled myself out of bed at daybreak to walk down to his camp under the mesquite grove just outside of town.

I drank a cup of coffee with him and wished him luck.