"Why, yes, sir," said Julian, somewhat surprised by the man's actions. "I reckon it is ours, and we want to see what gold is to be found in it."
"But think of the ghosts you will have to contend with," said Mr. Fay. "You will hear scurrying of feet—What was that?" he continued, looking toward a distant part of his office and pulling the boys around in front of him. "I am certain there is a ghost there."
Julian and Jack began to see into the matter now. The man was so full of his fun that he could not keep it in under any circumstances, and it had come to the surface when he saw the boys come into his office. Perhaps a lingering smile around his mouth had something to do with it.
"I don't believe you heard any ghost there," said Julian; "they are so busy up there at the mine that they have no time to come down here to trouble you."
"All right, boys; sit down. What did Banta say the spirits looked like?"
Julian replied that he could not tell, for he had not seen them; and with this as an introduction he went on and repeated the miner's conversation as nearly as he could recall it. Mr. Fay listened, highly amused, and when Julian ceased speaking he said,
"If you can see them, what's the use of your being afraid? And as for that phantom miner, that happened a long ways from here. I ought to be kicked for trying to frighten you."
"It will take something more than that to scare us out," said Julian. "Now, Mr. Fay, we want to ask your advice."
"I am ready to give it. Do you want to invest some property in a gold-mine?"
No; Julian assured him that it had no reference to their property, which was not theirs yet until the court had passed upon it, but it was in regard to their going to school in order to learn something. Mr. Fay was all attention now, and when Julian spoke of joining some mercantile academy, he slapped his hands down upon his knees as if that was the best thing the boys could do.
"I have no fears that your money will not prove useful to you," said he; "the idea of your wanting to go to school is a big feather in your caps. Some young men, with such an amount of money as you have coming to you, would loaf around and do nothing until their funds were all gone; but you don't act that way. Believe me, there is an end to that hundred thousand dollars somewhere."
"That is just what the president of the bank told us when we called upon him," said Julian. "We have worked so hard for the little money we have that we intend to take care of it. But, Mr. Fay, we don't believe that Mr. Gibson did right in giving us these funds."
"What's the reason you don't?"
"Why, he said he would have to get word from the court before all the property could be turned over to us—"
"Oh, that's all right; Mr. Gibson knew what he was doing. You will find it all right when the Judge hears the case. Now, do you know where the business college is situated?"
Julian was not so sure about that, but he received certain instructions from Mr. Fay that made him think he could find it; so the boys put on their caps and went out.
"Is the boss mechanic anywhere about?" asked Jack, who chanced to be the first who entered the college when they found it.
They had opened a door, and found themselves in one of the study-rooms of the school. There were fifty men and women there, all interested with their books, and the best of order prevailed. A young man, whose seat was near the door, on seeing that the boys were strangers, had arisen and asked them what he could do for them.
"The boss mechanic?" he repeated, in a surprised tone.
"He means the man who is at the head of this institution," said Julian. We want to see him for a few minutes, if you please."
"Oh, yes," said the young man, as he gave Jack a looking over. "I guess you have worked at manual labor all your life."
"Yes, I have," replied Jack; "I have done nothing but lift heavy iron for a good many years, and now I want to find an easier way of making a living."
"You have come to the right place to find it. Step this way."
The student led the way around the room, passing close to the scholars, some of whom merely glanced up, others paying not the least attention to them, until he opened a door and ushered them into a private office. He introduced the boys as persons who had come there to see the "boss mechanic," and then went out; while a pleasant-faced, elderly gentleman replied that he was the "boss mechanic" of that school, and asked them what they wanted. Jack, who had made a blunder by the first question he asked, remained silent, leaving Julian to do all the talking.
"We want to get an education," said Julian.
"Well, that is what this school can give you," said the man. "What do you want to study?"
"Stenography and type-writing."
"And you?" he added, turning to Jack.
"Bookkeeping and writing; I write a fearful hand."
The superintendent, having made a start with the boys, invited them to sit down, and in a few minutes he learned something of the boys' history, and what occupation they had been engaged in previous to coming to Denver. Without telling him anything of their circumstances, they chanced to mention the names of Mr. Fay and Mr. Gibson, and after that Julian thought he seemed to take more interest in them. After a little conversation the boys pulled out their roll of bills and paid for six months' instruction and the books they would need, and then arose to go, after telling him they would be on hand in the morning, ready to go to work.
"I'll tell you what's a fact," said Jack, pausing on the stairs and pulling out his diminished roll of bills; "we will have to go to the bank and get some more money, the first thing you know."
"That is so," replied Julian. "And I have just thought of another thing. Did you seehow neatly all those students were dressed? I am going to draw two hundred dollars—"
"Man alive!" said Jack, appalled by the sum mentioned. "Suppose Mr. Haberstro comes up—"
"I don't bother my head about him. We will go and get some money, and then we will go to a tailor's and get some clothes worth having. If Mr. Haberstro is going to appear, Mr. Gibson will show us the way out."
Jack was not convinced by any means, but he kept close by Julian's side until he reached the bank. Julian made out the check for him and he signed his name, and the money was paid to each of them without a word of protest. Jack felt a little uneasy after that. He did not like to have so much money about him. He carried his left hand in the pocket where he had placed the bills, and looked at every roughly-dressed man he met, as if he were afraid that somebody would rob him.
"I don't feel exactly right," said he to Julian. "As soon as we get home I'll put this money in my trunk, and then I know it will be safe."
"Don't keep your hand on it all the while, or you will lead somebody to suspect something," said Julian. "Now, here is a tailor shop; let us go in and see what we can do."
Jack fairly gasped when Julian said he wanted the finest suit of clothes there was in the store. He wanted two suits—one for every day and one for Sundays. Of course the merchant was eager to show them to him, and the result was that he ordered the best suits he had ever had in his life. Jack did not believe in expensive clothes, but Julian urged it upon him, telling him that he would look as though he came from the country among all those nicely-dressed students, and Jack finally yielded to him.
"That's the worst expenditure of money that I was ever guilty of," said he, when they were fairly on the street.
"Grumbling again, are you?" was Julian's comment. "Never mind; you will get used to it after a while."
The next thing the boys had in view was to join the Young Men's Christian Association, so that they could get some books to takehome with them; and when that was done they considered themselves settled for the winter. They went to school the next day, and from that time until spring opened they never missed a lesson. Jack was rather awkward at first. The hands which had been in the habit of lifting heavy bars of iron could not accommodate themselves to a pen very readily; and oftentimes, when Julian sat in his room, of nights, reading, Jack was there learning to write. No two boys ever behaved themselves better than they did, and it was not long before they became favorites, both with the boarders and others who came there to visit. Jack soon got used to his fine clothes, and wore them as if he had been accustomed to them all his life. They took an evening now and then to call upon Mr. Banta, and they always found him as talkative as ever. Sometimes they became so interested in his tales of life in the gold-camps that it was ten o'clock before they returned home. Mr. Fay and Mr. Gibson also came in for visits occasionally, and once the latter took out a bundle of papers, which he handed to Julian.
"What are these?" he asked.
"They are your property," said the lawyer. "You can keep the papers yourself, or you can let me keep them, and I will put them in my till in the bank."
"Do you mean that all comes to us?" inquired Julian, while a thrill shot all through him.
"Yes, sir; the court decided so a week ago."
"Jack," said Julian, turning to his companion, "are you sorry, now, that I went to the express office and invested in that 'old horse'?"
Jack could not say anything. He remembered how he had scolded Julian for that, and he did not want it thrown up to him so often. Julian then went on and told Mr. Gibson what had happened in their room the night he brought the "old horse" home, and the lawyer laughed loudly at his description of it.
"Mr. Gibson, we really wish you would take charge of this matter for us," said Julian. "You hope so, too—don't you, Jack?"
"Of course; we don't know what to do with it."
And so the matter was settled, and the boys breathed a good deal easier while they were on their way home. There was one thing that often came into their minds, and that was, What had become of Claus and Casper Nevins? Had they given up all hopes of gaining possession of that hundred thousand dollars? Jack scouted the idea. Casper might have given it up, but Claus would stick to his idea until he got into jail by it. He was not a man who gave up so easily. It is true they had not seen anything of him since they came to Denver, but Jack was sure they would hear from him at some other time.
"You will see," exclaimed Jack, when he confided his opinions to Julian. "You want to be on the watch, or the first thing you know he will jump down on us."
"I guess Mr. Gibson can shut him up very easily," said Julian.
"Yes; but it may happen when Mr. Gibson is not around."
"Eh? Do you mean that he will come down on us while we are up at the mine?"
"Such things as that have happened. When you see a German you want to look out."
Things went along in Denver as they usually did, and when winter fairly opened on them the boys thought they had never experienced such cold weather before. But it did not interfere with their business in any way. It was not long before Mr. Banta began to talk to them about the things that would be necessary for them to have if they were going to operate their mine successfully, and the boys had a lengthy list of things they would have to buy. They thought they could get along without some of them, but Banta assured them that everything they had down would be of use to them sooner or later. As time wore on, the prospect of leaving Denver and going off to the mountains alone, where they were destined to encounter some risks that they did not know whether they could stand up against or not, made the boys silent and thoughtful. In Denver they had friends—theywere sure of that; but when they got out to their mine they would be left all to themselves, and Julian and Jack did not know what they would make of it. Jack had less to say about it than his companion, but it was plain enough to see that he was not going to back out.
"I tell you I hate to go away and leave all the kind friends we have gathered about us," said Julian, as they left Salisbury's hotel after Mr. Banta had told them that by two weeks from Monday they must be on hand bright and early, all ready to start for the mountains. "I wish I knew what was in that mine."
"So do I; and the only way we can find out is to go and see," replied Jack. "I don't believe in ghosts, but I have heard so much about the things up there in that mine that I am almost ready to give in to them."
There was another thing that Jack thought of, although he did not mention it. Julian had always been one of the first to talk about going to the mine, and he was ready to accuse Jack of cowardice; but when the time fortheir departure drew near, Julian did not open his mouth. Jack thought of that, but said nothing.
Mr. Banta told them, finally, that they had better go to work and get their things ready, and they set about it in earnest. The first thing they did was to take leave of the students at the college. The boys were all sorry to see them go, and the superintendent said he hoped Julian and Jack had given up the idea of a gold-mine, for they were getting on so rapidly in their studies that he trusted to see them complete the course. He predicted they would come back poorer than when they went away. He had heard of such things before; and, after the young men had eaten up all their provisions, they would be glad to find somebody to grub-stake them back to Denver.
"You will see us back here in the fall," said Julian, confidently. "We are not going to give up our chances of learning something."
"But you may meet your death up there," said the superintendent. "I have often heard of such things."
"I was awfully afraid you were going to say something about the ghosts in our gold-mine," said Jack, as they went down the stairs. "You looked at me several times as though you wanted to say something about it."
"It was right on the end of my tongue," said Julian, "but I thought I had better keep still about it. If we should come back here before fall, they would say right away that we had been frightened out and dared not go back."
Mr. Banta was busy getting his own things together, but he found time now and then to overlook the boys' expenditures. Under his instructions they bought three horses,—two of them for riding, the other intended as a pack-horse to carry their utensils,—and then he led the boys away to a gun-shop, where they were to purchase rifles.
"Look here, Mr. Banta," said Julian; "we don't need anything in here. We have got a revolver apiece, and, if the truth must be told, we have spent a good deal of time in practicing with them."
"What good will a revolver do you?" asked Banta, greatly surprised. "If we chance to meet any Indians——"
"But you told us there were no Indians," said Julian. "We don't want to shoot at anybody unless they are close at hand. Maybe they will come in handy on the ghosts, you know."
"Well, you don't know anything about the plains—I can see that, plain enough. If you think revolvers are going to do you, why, I am done with you."
"Then we have purchased everything we want, have we?"
"I think so. Be on hand on Monday morning, because we shall be off before the sun gets an hour high."
The boys drew a long breath when they heard this. If they had not talked so much about visiting their mine it is probable that both of them would have backed squarely out.
"Hi! Nellie; get on, there! Strike a trot! We won't get to the mountains in seven years, at this gait."
It was Mr. Banta who spoke, and he emphasized his remarks by making the whip he carried in his hand crack loudly. The old, white bell-mare pricked up her ears and slowly quickened her pace, closely followed by all the pack-mules and horses belonging to the train.
"That old pack-mare knows where we are going as well as we do," said Banta, squaring around and throwing his leg over the horn of his saddle so that he could face the two boys whom he was addressing. "She has been up here so often that she knows every foot of the way. If we get hard up for deer meat, all we have to do is to take her bell off, and then we can go twenty miles out on the prairie, andshe will bring us back home again. You can't get lost if you are on her."
"Why do you take the bell off when you want to go hunting with the mare?" asked Julian of Mr. Banta, who, by reason of his age and experience, acted as leader of the company. "Does the noise of the bell frighten the game?"
"That is one reason," replied Banta; "and the other is, we don't want all the pack-mules and horses to follow us. Wherever they hear the bell, they will go to it. If we were on the other side of a wide river, even though it was swimming-deep, and some of these mules don't like water any too well, and should sound that bell a few times, they would all come over. If anything should happen to that old bell-mare, and she should die, we'd send a man on with that bell, and the mules would follow him wherever he went."
It was Monday morning, and the sun was just rising. The cavalcade had been on its way for two hours, for they left the hotel, amid wishes for good luck from all who saw them go, at the first peep of day. They wentdirectly past the hotel at which Julian and Jack had stopped to eat dinner when they first came there, and were now alone in the foothills which arose on all sides of them. There were at least a dozen miners in the company, and they had all set out for Dutch Flat in the hope of digging up a fortune before the winter's storms overtook them. Julian and Jack were there, dressed in rough miners' clothing, and the horse which bore their provisions and tools was with the others who were following the bell-mare.
Anybody could see at a glance that these boys were tenderfeet, and they did not attempt to deny it. Every other miner had a heavy Winchester slung at his back, while the only firearms the boys exhibited were Smith & Wesson revolvers, which they carried strapped to their waists. They did not look forward to the future with as brave hearts as most of the miners did. They could not get the idea out of their minds that the gold they wanted to find was protected by something which they did not want to see. The miners now and then cast curious looksat them, to see if they were not afraid of the prospect before them, but finally came to the conclusion that the boys were "going through with it." The miners were happy, and sang rude songs and cracked jokes with each other; but the boys were busy with their own thoughts, and took no part in what was going on around them.
"And I don't blame them, either," said one miner, in a low voice, to his companion. "I wouldn't take any part in the singing if I were in their place. They are brave enough now, but wait until they have been up to that mine about two days; then we will see them at our camp, frightened to death."
"Banta has rather taken them under his care, judging by the way he keeps watch over them," said the other miner.
"Yes; he was made acquainted with them by some high man in Denver, and so he keeps an eye on them. But he can't go up to their mine with them. More than that, those ghosts will not stop for him or anybody else."
Julian and Jack were not accustomed to being in the saddle from daylight until dark,and the ride was long and wearisome to them. They stopped at noon to eat their lunch and to let their animals crop the grass for a few minutes; but their packs were never removed from them until they halted for the night at a place which showed that there had been a camp before. Lean-to's were scattered around, partly unroofed by the storms of winter, and remnants of fires were to be seen; and Banta said that no one had been there since he and his party made the camp last fall.
"We made this camp while we were going down to the city," said he. "It was raining when we stopped here, and that accounts for the lean-to's. We had a waterspout that night, this little stream was filled twenty feet deep, and some of us began to look wild."
"A waterspout?" queried Jack. "What is that?"
"Why, I don't know that I can describe it so that you can understand it," answered Banta, scratching his head. "It is caused by the large quantity of water that sometimes falls among the hills up-country, and when it all rushes into these ravines—well, you canimagine how it looks, but I cannot describe it. This stream has not much water in it now—you can step across it anywhere; but I have seen it bank full from rains in the up-country, while there was not a drop of it fell here. I remember that night. I was sound asleep in a lean-to. I had told the boys that before morning we would have to get farther up the bank or run the risk of having some of our things carried off, and about midnight I awoke with a feeling that there was something going on. You don't know anything about that, do you? Well, you wait until you have acted as guide for two or three mule-trains, and then you'll know it. Everything depends upon you to see that the train comes out all right.
"I could not go to sleep again when once I woke up, and so I arose and went out. It was still raining heavily, but the brook didn't show much sign of it. I placed myself on the edge of the bank, and hardly had I got there before a long, creamy wave, which extended clear across this gully, crept with a hissing sound across the sand and rocks.Following with equal speed, and about a hundred feet behind it, was another wave, an unbroken mass of water at least five feet in height. It was not rounded into a wave, as at sea or on the lakes, but rose sheer and straight, a perfect wall of water. I knew that in five minutes this little creek would be brim full, so I raised a yell and awoke everybody in camp. The men I had with me were all veterans, and there was no need that I should explain matters. They took just one look at the water, and then grabbed their things and made a rush for the high bank behind the lean-to's. After placing them where they would be safe, they came back and made a rush for the horses. Pete, there, caught the bell-mare, and by dint of pulling and boosting we finally got them to that level spot you see up there."
Mr. Banta pointed to the bank, which seemed almost as straight as the side of a house, and the boys looked on with perfect astonishment.
"How in the world did you get the mules and horses up there?" inquired Julian.
"A man can do a heap of things when he is working for his life and for things that he can't afford to lose," said Banta, with a laugh. "Pete has a heap of strength in those arms of his, and when I get hold of a mule's tail and begin to twist it, he goes somewhere as soon as he can. We got them up easy enough, and there we stayed for two whole days, until the water had all passed away. We didn't lose so much as a pound of bacon. But if I had been asleep, like the rest of the fellows were, we would have had a time of it; somebody would have had to swim for his life, and the current ran like lightning, too."
"I did not know you had to look out for water on the plains," remarked Julian. "Is there anything you don't stand in fear of out here? You see, we want to know it all."
"Well, a waterspout is one thing, and a blizzard is the next," said Banta. "I mean a blizzard where the clouds send down chunks of ice at you as big as your fist. Oh, you needn't laugh. Look at that."
Banta stripped up his leggings, and showed the boys a long, ragged scar which he had receivedin one of the commotions of nature referred to. The wound must have been a dangerous one.
"And the worst of it was, I did not have a doctor look at it for two weeks," Banta went on. "You see, I was out alone, and making the best track I could for the fort. The sky had all along been hazy, and on this day I had to go across the Twenty-mile desert, where there was not a willow-twig big enough for me to get under. When I was about half-way over it began to rain, and in less than an hour afterward the blizzard came a-ripping. My horse and mule were made so frantic by the pelting of the ice that I finally let them go; but before I released the horse I took my knife and cut the saddle and blankets off him. What did I do that for? Because I was too cold to use my fingers. I settled down there on the prairie, put the saddle and blankets over my head, and waited for the storm to cease; but before I did that, there came a big bunch of ice and struck me on the leg. I never had anything hurt so bad in my life."
"How long did you have to stay there?"asked Jack. "I hear that some of these storms last two or three days."
"This one lasted one day, and I was glad to see the ice quit dropping. I was thirty miles from the fort, and I'll bet I didn't do two miles of walking in all that distance. I left everything except my weapons and crawled all the way. This is the saddle, right here."
"I should keep that for the good it had done," said Julian. "Your saddle probably saved your life."
"It will stay with me while I live," said Banta, casting an affectionate look upon the article in question. "Now, boys, suppose you get ready and chop some wood and start the fire. I'll take the things off the animals and straighten up the lean-to. You boys don't know how to make a lean-to, do you? If you take a good look at this one, you will see how it is done."
There was one satisfaction the boys had in listening to Mr. Banta's stories—they were true, every word of them. If any of the "boys" tried to make things different fromwhat they were, Banta always shut them up. That was the reason the boys thought so much of him, and anything he had to say in regard to working their mine was always listened to with the keenest interest.
The change that a few experienced men made in that deserted camp in a short time was wonderful. Every stroke of the axe counted for something, and every step the men made to and from the places they had chosen to make their beds seemed to count for something else; so that by the time Julian and Jack had cut wood enough to last them all night the lean-to's were covered with fresh boughs, those who did not choose to sleep under shelter had their beds made up under the protecting branches of trees, the animals were staked out, and two of the cooks were busy getting supper. It was all done without the least commotion, for each man knew what his duty was.
"If a rain-storm was coming up you couldn't have made this camp quicker," said Julian. "It beats the world how soon men can get ready for the night."
"Yes, but that comes from experience, you know," said Banta. "Do you know that I have been thinking of something? When we get up to Dutch Flat, and you get ready to go up to your mine, I believe I will go with you."
"That's the best piece of news I have heard for a long time," declared Julian, who was delighted beyond measure. "We don't ask you to go down in the mine, you understand, but if you will just stay there until we get things fixed you will confer a great favor upon us."
"Yes, I guess I had better see to your wants a little," said Banta. "You are tenderfeet, you have never lived alone in the mountains, and perhaps I can tip you a wink now and then that will be of use to you. You will need the mine cleared away—it has all grown up to grass by this time—and you will need a windlass and a lean-to; and maybe I can be of assistance."
"I know you can; and of great assistance, too. I tell you, I feel easier. I have often wondered how that mine looked, and how we were going to get it in shape to work it, but Idon't worry about it now. We are much obliged to you for your offer."
"Oh, that's all right. I remember that I was a boy myself, and any such little help as I have offered you would have been a regular blessing to me. Now let us go and see if supper is ready."
Supper was almost ready, and the neat manner in which it was served up, and the way it was cooked, told the boys that if the miners could always get such food as that, they could work their claims to the best possible advantage.
"Can we help you a little?" said Julian to one of the cooks after the meal was over and the man began gathering up the dishes.
"What a-doing?" asked the cook.
"We want to help you wash the dishes," said Julian.
"Why, bless you, that's no trouble. There is only one way you can help us, and that is by sitting by and looking on. I never yet saw a tenderfoot that didn't get in the way. You will have enough of it to do when you get up to that ghost-haunted mine of yoursand have to cook your own meals. You had better take my advice," said the cook, in a lower tone, "and stay down on Dutch Flat with us. There are no spirits down there."
"But it is ours, and I don't see why we can't work it," replied Julian. "If there is anybody there, we will make him show himself."
"You will see," said the cook, going to the camp-fire for a bucket of water. "The next time we see you, you will be all ready to go back to Denver."
The cook struck up a whistle as he began washing the dishes, and the boys, taking this as a gentle hint that he would rather be alone, walked off to another fire which had been kindled in the upper end of the camp. All the miners were gathered about there, and each one of them had a story to tell about some wonderful "find" which he had almost struck, and then ceased digging because he was discouraged by the way the gold "showed up." Banta was there, and after relating three or four stories of his own, he began to stretch and yawn as though he were sleepy,and finally arose and went into his lean-to. The boys followed him, hoping he would say something more about going up to their mine with them; but he talked on other topics until he got into bed, and then he became silent. He had already decided what he would do when they reached Dutch Flat, and there the matter ended.
The boys slept as comfortably as if they had been at home in their boarding-house. It is true their blankets were rather hard, and their pillows were not as soft as they might have been, being simply their saddles with nothing but the horse-blankets over them, but they never knew a thing from the time they went to bed until they heard Mr. Banta's voice roaring out "Catch up!"
They found all in the camp busy. Some were raking the embers of the fire together, others were getting ready to cook breakfast, but most of them were engaged in packing the animals. This last was a task that the boys always wanted to see, for the operation was so complicated that they did not think they could ever learn how to do it. The mules were blinded, in the first place, so that they could not kick when the heavy packwas thrown upon their backs, and the man on the near side, who seemed to "boss" the business, placed his foot against the mule's side and called lustily for the rope which the other fellow held in his hands.
"You have more rope there, and I know it," was the way in which he began the conversation.
"Here you are," said his companion, and the rope was passed over the pack to where the other fellow was waiting to receive it.
"Come, let's have a little more rope," repeated the first man.
"There's oceans of it here, and you can have all you want of it."
"Are you all fast there?"
"I will be in a minute. Here's your end."
"All fast here. Now let us see him kick it off," said the first man; whereupon a dexterous twist tore off the blinders, and the mule was free to go and join his companions. It was all done in two minutes, and the pack was safe to last until the train halted for the night.
"Come on, boys," said Mr. Banta, turningto Julian and Jack, who stood, with towel and soap in their hands, watching the operation of packing the animals. "You must get around livelier than this. When you get to digging out gold by the bucketful you won't wait to wash your faces or get breakfast; you'll be down in that mine before the sun is up."
"Are we not going to eat at all?" asked Julian, who was amused at the man's way of telling them that they would be so anxious to find the gold that they would not spend time to cook their meals.
"Yes, I suppose you will have to eat sometimes, but you will hold your grub in one hand and use the spade with the other."
The miners were in a hurry, now, to resume their journey, and it took them about half as long to eat breakfast as they devoted to their supper. Five minutes was about the time they applied themselves to their meal, and when Mr. Banta arose from his seat on the ground and drew his hairy hand across his mouth to brush away the drops of coffee that clung to his mustache the miners all arose, too. In less time than it takes to tell it they were all intheir saddles and under way, and when they stopped again for the night they were in a camp which they had occupied on the way down to Denver. Mr. Banta was as talkative as usual, and when he had got his pipe going, and had taken three or four puffs to make sure that it was well started, he began his round of stories, which the boys were always ready to listen to.
They were all of a week in making their journey; and about three o'clock in the afternoon, when the old bell-mare struck a trot, Mr. Banta turned to Jack and gave him a poke with his finger.
"We are almost home," said he, joyfully. "I don't suppose this will seem like home to you, but it does to me, for it is the only home I have."
"Do you never get tired of this business?" asked Julian. "I should think you would like to go back to the States, where you belong."
"How do you know that I belong in the States?" asked Mr. Banta.
"I judge by your way of talking, as muchas anything. You were not raised in this country—I am certain of it."
"Well, I will go back when I get enough."
"How much do you call enough?"
"Half a million dollars."
Julian and Jack opened their eyes and looked surprised.
"I've got three hundred thousand now in the bank at Denver."
"Then you are not so badly off, after all. I think I could live on the interest of that much."
"There are some objections to my going back," said Mr. Banta, looking off toward the distant mountains. "When I get back there I will have to settle down to a humdrum life, and there won't be nothing at all to get up a little excitement. Here the thing is different. We live here, taking gold in paying quantities all the time, and the first thing we know we hear of some new placers, which have been found somewhere else, that make a man rich as fast as he can stick a shovel into the ground. Of course we pack up and go off to find the new placers. We have a muss ortwo with some outlaws, and when we get rid of them we go to work and find out that there is nothing there."
"Then you wish yourself back at Dutch Flat," said Jack.
"That's the way it happens, oftentimes. It is the excitement that keeps us a-going. Now, in the States I would not have any of that."
"Did you find many outlaws in this country when you first came here?"
"They were thicker than flies around a molasses barrel," answered Mr. Banta. "But we have got rid of them all, and your life is just as safe here as it would be in St. Louis. Whenever we go to a new country, the outlaws are the first things we look out for. There's the camp, all right and tight, just as we left it."
The camp covered a good stretch of ground; but then Mr. Banta had not told them that there were fully two hundred miners in it, and of course such a multitude of men, where nobody owned the land, would spread over a good deal of territory. The boys had a fineopportunity to take a survey of the first mining camp they had ever seen. They were surprised at the neatness of it. Things in the shape of old bottles or tin cans were not scattered around where somebody would stumble over them, but such articles were thrown into a ravine behind the camp, out of sight. The most of the miners had erected little log cabins to protect them from the storms of winter, and the others had comfortable lean-to's which served the same purpose. Most of the men were busy with their mines, but there were three or four of them loafing about, and when the noise made by the pack-animals saluted their ears they turned to see who was coming. One glance was enough; they pulled off their hats and waved them by way of welcome.
"Well, if here ain't Banta!" they all exclaimed in a breath. "Did you drop your roll down at Denver and come back to get more?"
"Nary a time," replied Mr. Banta, emphatically. "We got just what we could eat and drink, and that is all the money wespent. Who has passed in his checks since I have been gone?"
(This was a miner's way of asking "Who's dead?")
"None of the boys who are here shovelling for gold," said the man, coming forward to shake hands with Mr. Banta, "but those four outlaws who came up here from Denver to deal out some whiskey and start a faro bank could tell a different story, if they were here."
"They did not get a foothold here, did they?" asked Mr. Banta.
"I'll bet they didn't. We hardly gave them time to unpack their goods before we jumped on them and spilled their traps on the ground. One of the bums grew huffy at that, and he took a wounded arm down for the doctor to bandage up."
"Have any of the boys made their pile?"
"Some have, and some have not. Tommy Moran has struck a vein with sixty thousand dollars in it, and has been loafing around for the last two months, doing nothing. He went out to-day to see if he can get some more. He wants to go home, now."
"I should not think he would like to travel between here and Denver with that amount of money about him," said Mr. Banta.
"Well, there will be plenty more to join in with him when he is ready to go. The discouraged ones number a heap. The sign looks right, but the paying-stuff don't pan out first-rate. Some are going home, and the rest are going off to hunt up new diggings."
Having briefly got at the news of what had been going on at the camp while he had been away, Mr. Banta led the way toward his own log cabin, which was fastened up just as it was when he left it. There was one bed, made of rough boards, an abundance of dishes, a fireplace, and one or two chairs, and that was all the furniture to be seen. But Mr. Banta thought his cabin just about right.
"It don't matter how hard it rains or blows, this little house has sheltered me for a year, and has got to do so until my vein gives out. Now, boys, catch the pack-animals and turn them over to me, and I'll soon make things look as though somebody lived here."
Julian and Jack managed to secure the pack-animals by catching the bell-mare and leading her up to the door of the cabin, and it was not long before the bundles which they had borne for two hundred miles were placed on the ground, and Mr. Banta was engaged in carrying the things into his house. He unpacked all the bundles except the one that belonged to the boys, and that would not be opened until they reached their mine.
"Are you fellows decided on that matter yet?" he asked. "Had you not better stay with us here on the Flat? We will promise you that no spooks will trouble you here."
"The more you talk about that mine, the more determined we are to see what is in it," answered Jack. "You need not think you can scare us out in that way."
"I like your pluck, and if you are determined to go there, why, I am going with you. It is only five miles, and we can easily ride over there in two hours."
"Where is it you are going?" asked one of the miners, who stood in the doorway unobserved.
"You know that haunted mine, don't you?"
"Great Moses! You ain't a-going up there!" said the man; and as he spoke he came into the cabin and sat down in one of the chairs.
"The boys are going there, and I thought I would go with them to see them started," said Mr. Banta. "The mine is all grown up to grass, because there hasn't been anybody up there for some time now."
"No, I should say not!" exclaimed the miner, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment. "Are the boys plumb crazy? I tell you, lads, when you see——"
"Tony, shut your mouth!" cried Mr. Banta. "The boys won't see anything, but they'll hear something that will take all the sand out of them. I have talked to the boys many times about that mine, during the past winter, but they have their heads set on it, and I don't see any other way than to let them go."
"Well, if we hear anything, there must be something that makes the noise," asserted Julian.
"It will be something that you can't see," said the miner, shaking his head and looking thoughtfully at the ground. "Two fellows went up there since I knew the mine, and when they got down to the bottom of the pit they were so frightened that they came down here as fast as they could and struck out for Denver. They were both big, stout men, and were armed with Winchesters and revolvers. If they had seen what made the noise, they would have been apt to shoot—wouldn't they?"
"I should think they would," answered Jack.
"Will you go down into the mine when you get there?" asked the man, turning to Mr. Banta.
"Not much, as anybody knows of," declared the latter, shivering all over. "The ghosts don't bother anybody working at the top, so I shall get along all right."
"Well, that puts a different look on the matter," remarked Tony, evidently much relieved. "Then I shall expect to see you back in two or three days."
"Yes, I'll be back by that time," asserted Mr. Banta; and he added to himself, "if anything happens to the boys after that, why, I shall be miles away."
This was the first time that Mr. Banta had anything to say to the miners about what he intended to do when he reached Dutch Flat, but it was all over the camp in less than five minutes. The miner went slowly and thoughtfully out of the cabin, as if he did not know whether it was best to agree to his leader's proposition or not, and it was not long before the men who were busy with things about their houses came up in a body to inquire into the matter. They were filled with astonishment; and, furthermore, they were anxious to see the boys who were going to take their lives in their hands and go up to work that pit, from which strong men had been frightened away. And it was so when six o'clock arrived, and the men all came in to get their supper. Some of the miners declared that it was not to be thought of, and some said that if Mr. Banta was bound to go, they would go with him to see that he came out all right.
"You see what the miners think of this business," remarked Mr. Banta, as he began preparations for their supper. "They think you are out of your heads."
"Well, you will not see anything of it, because you won't go into the mine," said Jack.
"You are mighty right I won't go into the mine," declared Mr. Banta, looking furtively about the cabin, as if he expected to see something advancing upon him. "We will go up there and put the pit all right, and then you will have to work it."
"I wonder if there is any gold up there?" asked Julian.
"There is more gold up there than you can see in Dutch Flat in a year's steady digging. The men who have been down in the mine say so."
"Well, when we come back you may expect to see us rich," said Julian, compressing his lips. "And you may be sure that the spooks won't drive us out, either."
This was all that was said on the subject—that is, by those in the cabin; but when the men had eaten their suppers they all crowdedinto it, and the stories that would have been told of ghosts interfering with miners who tried to take away their precious belongings would have tested the boys' courage; but Mr. Banta did not allow them to go on.
"As I told these boys down at Denver, I am telling them nothing but facts in regard to this mine, and I want you to do the same," said he. "Don't draw on your imagination at all."
Before the miners returned to their cabins, it came about that the boys were going to have a small army go with them on the morrow. At least a dozen miners declaimed their readiness to go with Banta "and see him through," and Banta did not object.
"The more, the merrier," said he, when they had been left alone and he turned down his bedclothes. "Now, you boys can spread your blankets on the floor in front of the fire and go to sleep; I will have you up at the first peep of day."
Mr. Banta kept his word the next morning, for the day was just beginning to break when he rolled out on the floor and gave the order to "Catch up." All the miners were astir soon afterward; but there was no joking or laughing going on in the camp, as there usually was. The men went silently about their work of cooking breakfast, or sat smoking their pipes in front of the fire, for their thoughts were busy with that mine up in the mountains. Even the talkative Mr. Banta had nothing to say. He seemed to have run short of stories, all on a sudden.
"Say, Julian," remarked Jack, as they stood by the stream washing their hands and faces, "why don't Banta talk to us the way he usually does? I'll bet he is thinking about what is going to happen to us."
"I was just thinking that way myself," replied Julian. "But we have gone too far to back out; we have got to go on."
"Of course we have. I wouldn't back out now for anything."
Breakfast was cooked and eaten, and the same silence prevailed; and that same silence did more to shake the boys' courage than all that had been said against their mine. Mr. Banta answered their questions in monosyllables, and when he had satisfied his appetite he put the dishes away unwashed and went out to catch his horse.
"Take hold of the bell-mare and lead her up the path," said he, addressing the miners who were getting ready to accompany him. "We have to take her and all the stock along, or the boys' pack-horse won't budge an inch."
The miners were talkative enough now, when they saw the boys getting ready to start on their journey. They crowded around them, and each one shook them by the hand.
"Good-bye! kids," said one. "The next time I see you, you will be so badly scaredthat you won't be able to tell what happened to you up there; or, I sha'n't see you at all. I wish you all the good luck in the world, but I know that will not amount to anything."
"Do you think they can whip all these men?" asked Jack, running his eye over the miners, who were getting on their horses and making ready to go with Mr. Banta.
"That ain't the thing; you won't see anybody; but the sounds you will hear when you get fairly on the floor of that pit you will never want to hear again."
The bell-mare was caught and led along the path, the stock all followed after her, and the miners brought up the rear. Then Mr. Banta opened his mouth and proceeded to talk all the way to the mine.
"You boys may come along here pretty sudden, some time, and if you don't find Dutch Flat you will stray off into the mountains and get lost; so I will just blaze the way for you."
As Mr. Banta spoke he seized a handful of the branches of an evergreen and pulledthem partly off, so that they just hung by the bark.
"Now, whenever you see that, you are on the right road," said he; "but if you don't see it, you had better turn back and search for a blaze until you find it."
For once the boys did not pay much attention to Mr. Banta's stories, for their minds were fully occupied with their own thoughts. At last—it did not seem to them that they had ridden a mile—the man with the bell-mare sung out "Here we are!" and led the way into a smooth, grassy plain which seemed out of place there in the mountains, and to which there did not appear to be any outlet except the one by which they had entered it. It was surrounded by the loftiest peaks on all sides except one, and there the plain was bounded by a precipitous ravine which was so deep that the bottom could not be seen from the top. Near the middle of the plain was a little brook, placed most conveniently for "washing" their finds, which bubbled merrily over the stones before it plunged into the abyss before spoken of; and close on the otherside were the ruins of the mine—a strong windlass, which had hauled up fifty thousand dollars' worth of gold—and the rope that was fast to the bucket, or rather to the fragments of it, for the bucket itself had fallen to pieces from the effects of the weather, and lay in ruins on the ground. Still farther away stood the lean-to—firmly built, of course, but not strong enough to stand the fury of the winter's storms. Taken altogether, a miner could not have selected a more fitting camp, or one better calculated to banish all symptoms of homesickness while they were pulling out the gold from the earth below. Mr. Banta kept a close watch on the boys, and saw the pleased expression that came upon their faces.
"I know it looks splendid now, but it will not look so before long," said he, with a knowing shake of his head. "Now, boys, let us get to work. We want to get through here, so as to get back to Dutch Flat to-night."
The miners unsaddled their horses, grabbed their axes and spades, and set in manfully to make the "mine all right," so that the boyscould go to work at it without delay. Some repaired the lean-to, others laboriously cleared the mouth of the pit from the grass and brush which had accumulated there, and still another brought from the boys' pack the new bucket and rope which they expected would last just about long enough for one of them to go down and up—and they were positive that the boy would come up a great deal faster than he went down. The boys did not find anything to do but to get dinner, and they were rather proud of the skill with which the viands were served up.
"I didn't know you boys could do cooking like this," said Mr. Banta, as he seated himself on the grass and looked over the table—a blanket spread out to serve in lieu of a cloth. "If the cooking was all you had to contend with you could live like fighting-cocks as long as you stay here."
"We had hardly enough money to pay for a housekeeper while we were in St. Louis, and so we had all this work to do ourselves," said Julian. "You must give Jack the credit for this. We kept bachelor's hall while we wereat home. He cooked, and I swept out and helped wash the dishes."
"Now, boys," said Mr. Banta, after he had finished his pipe, "I guess we have Julian and Jack all ready to go to work whenever they feel like it. Look over your work, and see if there is anything you have missed, and then we will go back to Dutch Flat. I tell you, I hate to leave you up here in this sort of a way."
"You need not be," said Jack. "If you will come up here in two weeks from now, we will have some gold-dust to show you."
Mr. Banta did not say anything discouraging, for he had already exhausted all his powers in that direction. He inspected all the work, to satisfy himself that it was properly done, and then gave the order to "catch up."
"Of course your stock will go back with us," said he. "You could not keep them here away from that old bell-mare."
"That was what we expected," said Julian; "we may be so badly frightened that we won't think to bring our weapons with us."
"I am not afraid to say that I'll risk that," said Mr. Banta, leaning over to shake Julian by the hand. He told himself that the miner's heart was in that shake. It was very different from the clasp of the hand that he gave him when he was first introduced to him in Denver. "Good-bye, Julian. That is all I can say to you."
The other miners rode up to take leave of them, and all looked very solemn. Some had a parting word to say, and some shook them by the hand without saying anything, the man with the bell-mare led off, the stock followed, the miners came last, and in two minutes more they were alone. Julian sat down on the grass feeling lonely indeed, but Jack jumped up and began to bestir himself.
"Come on, boy—none of that!" said he, beginning to gather their few dishes together. "We must get these things out of the way and I must get ready to go into that mine."
"Are you going down to-day?" asked Julian. The time had come at last. For long months Julian had talked about going down into that mine—not boastingly, to be sure, buthe had said enough to make people believe he would not back out, and now the opportunity was presented for him to do as he had agreed. "Why can't you let it go until to-morrow?"
"Because I am just ready to go now," said Jack; and there was a determined look on his face which Julian had never seen there before. "I am fighting mad, now, and to-morrow I may be as down-hearted as you are."
"Do you think I am afraid?" exclaimed Julian, springing up and beginning to assist his chum. "I'll show you that I am not! If you want to go first you can go, and I will go the next time."
Julian went to work with a determination to get the dishes done as soon as possible. When they had got them all stowed away where they belonged, Jack stopped to roll up his sleeves, examined his revolver, which he strapped to his waist, lighted his lamp, and led the way toward the mine without saying a word. Julian gave a hasty glance at him and saw that his face was as calm as it usually was, and he began to take courage from that.
"It looks dark down there, does it not?" asked Julian, leaning on the windlass and peering down into the pit.
"It is dark enough now, but it will be lighter when I get down there with my lamp," replied Jack. "Now, Julian, are you sure you can hold me up?"
"Of course I can. If I can't, we had better get another man up here."
Jack stopped just long enough to shake Julian by the hand, then seized the rope and stepped into the bucket, his partner holding the windlass so that he would not descend too rapidly. Slowly he went down, until finally the bucket stopped.
"All right!" called Jack; and his voice sounded strangely, coming up from thirty feet underground. "This hole is bigger down here than it is at the top. Somebody has cut away on each side to try to find gold," and at last he started off toward the gully.
Julian leaned over the pit and followed his companion's movements by the light of his lamp. He saw him as he went around to the "false diggings," and finally his lamp disappearedfrom view as Jack went down toward the ravine. His face was very pale; he listened intently, but could not hear that rustling of feet nor that moaning sound that had frightened two men away from there, and his courage all came back to him.
"I wonder what those men were thinking of when they started that story about this mine being haunted?" Julian muttered to himself. "There is nothing here to trouble anyone."
Hardly had this thought been framed in Julian's mind than there came a most startling and thrilling interruption. The boy was leaning over the pit with his head turned on one side, so that he could hear any unusual sounds going on below, and all of a sudden he sprang to his feet and acted very much as though he wanted to go below to Jack's assistance. He distinctly heard that rustling of feet over the rocks below, some of them made by Jack as he ran toward the bucket, and the other by something else that made Julian's heart stand still. And with that sound came others—moans or shrieks, Julian couldn't tellwhich—until they seemed to fill the pit all around him. This lasted but a few seconds, and then came the report of Jack's revolver and the sound was caught up by the echoes until it appeared to Julian that a whole battery of artillery had been fired at once.
"There!" said Julian, greatly relieved to know that Jack had seen something to shoot at. "I guess one ghost has got his death at last!"
A moment afterward came Jack's frantic pull on the rope, accompanied by his frightened voice—
"Pull me up, Julian! For goodness' sake, pull me up!"
Julian jumped for the windlass and put every atom of his strength into it. At first the resistance of the bucket was just about what it would have been if Jack had stepped into it; but suddenly the resistance ceased, the crank was jerked out of his hand, and Julian was thrown headlong to the ground.
"What was that?" exclaimed the boy, regaining his feet as quickly as he could. "Jack, did you fall out of the bucket?"
There was no response to his question. He leaned over and looked into the pit; but Jack's light had gone out, and everything was silent below. The rustling of feet had ceased, the moans had died away, and the mine was as still as the grave.
"Something has happened to Jack!" exclaimed Julian, running to his lean-to after his revolver and lamp. "I am going down there to see about it if all the ghosts in the Rocky Mountains should be there to stop me!"
Julian worked frantically, and in less time than it takes to tell it he was ready to go down to Jack's help. He hastily unwound the rope until all the length was out except the extreme end, which was fastened to the windlass by a couple of staples, and swung himself into the mine. He went down much faster than Jack did, and when he reached the bottom he let go his hold on the rope, and, holding his revolver in readiness for a shot, he turned slowly about, as if he were expecting that whatever had frightened Jack would be upon him before he could think twice. But nothing came.In whatever direction he turned his light, everything seemed concealed by Egyptian darkness, and finally he resolved to let the ghosts go and turned his attention to Jack. There he lay, close to Julian's feet, his lamp extinguished and his revolver at a little distance from him; and it was plain that he was either frightened or dead, for Julian had never seen so white a face before. His own face, if he only knew it, was utterly devoid of color, and his hands trembled so that he could scarcely use them.
"I would like to know what it was that could make Jack faint away in this fashion," muttered Julian, first looking all around to make sure that nothing had come in sight before he laid his revolver down. "How to get him into that bucket, and the bail over him, is what bothers me just now; but he must go in, and get out of this."
Jack was a heavyweight, and if any boy who reads this has ever been called upon to handle a playmate who remained limp and motionless in his arms he will know what a task Julian had to put him into the bucket.And remember that he must go inside the bail, otherwise he could not pull him out; and the bail would not stay up without somebody to hold it. But Julian worked away as only a boy can under such circumstances, and was just getting him in shape, so that in a moment more he would have had him in, when he noticed that one of his hands was wet. He stopped for a moment to look at it, and at the sight of it he seemed ready to sit down beside Jack and faint away, too.
"It is blood!" murmured Julian. "My goodness! you must get out of here, and be quick about it! What was that?"
Julian straightened up again, but he had his revolver in his hand. That moaning sound was repeated again, but the boy could not tell where it came from. It was not so great in volume as the first one that had saluted Jack, but it was a complaining kind of a sound, such as one might utter who was being deserted by the only friend he had upon earth. Julian stood there with his revolver in his hand, but, aside from the sound which rung in his ears for many a night afterward,his eyes could not reveal a single thing for him to shoot at. Julian thought now that he had got at the bottom of the mystery. Hastily slipping his revolver into his belt, he turned his attention to Jack, and in a few moments had him ready to hoist to the top. Then he seized the rope, and, climbing it hand over hand, he reached the surface, when, throwing off his hat and revolver, he turned around to haul up Jack.