“It wouldn't be your problem, that's what it would be. We'll be getting some stuff from Phoenix and back east and such, and when it comes in, you just tote it up to Turley Springs and set it there for us, and we'll pay you a dollar a trip. And that's all you have to do. How's that sound?”

There was a movement on for the prohibition of alcohol. People in Arizona were talking statehood, and the argument was that it would be easier if Arizona was to go in a dry state. The argument didn't sit well in the most southern counties—Pima, where Tucson was, and Santa Cruz, which bordered on Mexico. But in largely Mormon Graham, Greenlee, and even Cochise Counties, there was strong support for the prohibition.

Tom figured that that's what this was, a preparation for prohibition. Moonshiners would need a lot of equipment, a lot of good water, and a secluded place. And Turley Springs was a secluded place with good water. The cowboys who wanted to send stuff up there were setting up a still. He was sure of that.

“I don't think it's right,” he told Albee. “I think it ought to be a dollar a burro.”

“Well, hell, you're driving them up there anyway. It won't even be out of your way.”

“I'm driving them empty,” Tom said. “You want me to drive them loaded, and you want me to do the loading and unloading. A dollar for each burro I got to load and unload.”

“Well, hell. Nothing for the burros that ain't loaded? I guess that would be all right. Don't you go putting a little bitty stick on each burro and claiming for a load.”

“I wouldn't do that,” Tom said. “I decide how much weight is a load for the burros, though. They're Mr. Firth's burros, and we treat them right.”

For three weeks he carted barrels and piping of all sorts, iron, gauges, burners, and boxes of bottles up to the spring. He took all of this well back into the bush where it wouldn't be noticed by anyone just visiting the spring. A happy customer was a repeat customer. He had learned that from Firth. He took a fully operational still up the steep trail in three weeks and pocketed sixty-two dollars. He was coming up on rich. He liked being on his own and making his own money. He had learned from his father that when opportunity knocked in America, you best not be broke.

By 1910 Jeff was growing restless again. The family had scattered—Charlie and Tom to Arizona, John to Lordsburg, New Mexico. Only Granny Jane and Ola May remained at home. He loaded the women into the wagon, got word to John, and moved the family to Arizona, closer to Charlie, Tom, and Will Morgan. They moved to the small town of Klondyke on the eastern end of Aravaipa Canyon.