This time Julian laid out all his strength on the windlass; but the bucket resisted, and he knew that Jack's weight was safely within it. Presently his head and shoulders appeared above the pit, whereupon Julian slipped a bucket over the crank, and in a few minutes Jack was safe above ground. To tumble him out of the bucket and dash into his face some water that he dipped up from the stream with his hat occupied but little of his time, and almost at once Jack opened his eyes and looked about him.
"Well, sir, you saw them, did you not?" asked Julian, with a smile.
"I tell you, you wouldn't have smiled if you had been in my place," replied Jack. "That thing looked awful as it came at me."
"What thing?"
"There is some animal down there who isnot going to let us work this mine if he can help it," said Jack, feeling around with his right hand to examine his shoulder. "As I stepped into the bucket with one foot he jumped—my goodness! I don't like to say how far it was; but I saw his eyes shining green in the darkness, and just as I pulled on him he sprang at me, dug his claws into my shoulder, and pulled me out. I thought I was gone up, sure; then all was blank to me. Did you see him?"
"I did not see anything," said Julian. "When the bucket came up easily, as though you were not in it, I went down after you; but I did not see a thing. What was it?"
"You tell. It was some kind of an animal that I never saw before. And didn't he make a howling just before he jumped! I wish you would look at my shoulder; it smarts awfully."
Jack could handle himself well enough now, and it was no trouble for him to roll over on his face and give Julian a chance to view his wounds. His shirt was torn completely off, and underneath were four scratcheswhich went the whole length of his back and spent themselves on the thick waistband of his trousers, which they had ripped in two. Very little blood came from the wounds, and Julian assured him that they were not deep enough to cause him any inconvenience.
"You must have killed him before he got to you," said Julian. "A bear could not jump that far, and if it were a panther—why, you have done something to be proud of. You have done it anyway, for you have cleared up something that scared those two men away from here."
"Do you really think so?" asked Jack.
"I know it."
"But think of the howling he made! It seemed as if the pit was full of bears and panthers, and I didn't know which way to look. Have you got all the blood off? Then let us go down there and see about it. We can't work our mine with those fellows in there. If I killed him at once, how did he come to jump so far? And then he took himself off after clawing me; that is something I don't understand."
"You have to shoot one of those fellows through the brain or in the spine, in order to throw him in his tracks. Did you have a fair chance at his heart?"
"I don't know. I simply shot a little ways below that green spot, in the darkness, and the next thing I knew I didn't know anything."
"Because, if you had a fair chance at his heart, a wild animal will sometimes run a good way before he drops. He is down there somewhere, and I'll bet you will find him. But, Jack, there are others that we must get rid of before we own this mine."
"What do you mean by that? I was in hopes I had shot the last one of them."
"Well, you did not. While I was working over you I heard those moans repeated. That proves others are there—don't it?"
"I am going down to clear it up," persisted Jack, who had got upon his feet by this time and started toward the lean-to. "Hold on till I get cartridges to put in this revolver. I used to grumble at you because you spent so much money in Denver, lastwinter, in shooting at a mark, but I begin to believe you were right and that I was wrong. If I had been as awkward with this shooting-iron as I used to be, you would have got the whole of that hundred thousand dollars to spend for yourself."
"Don't speak about it!" exclaimed Julian, who wondered what he should do if Jack was taken away from him. "I need somebody to grumble at me, and you will do as well as anybody. Are you not going to put on another shirt?"
"Not much, I ain't. Maybe I did not kill that animal, whatever it was and he will come for me again. Now, you hold up and let me go," said Jack, when he saw Julian place one foot in the bucket."
"I am a better shot than you are, and if I pull on one of those ghosts you will see him drop," returned Julian, drawing the other foot in. "Take hold of the windlass and let me down easy. If I halloo, you must lose no time in hauling me up."
Jack was obliged to submit to this arrangement, and he carefully lowered Julian out ofsight. When the bucket stopped he seized the rope, and in a moment more stood beside him.
"I am glad it is animals that are interfering with us, for I am not at all afraid of them," declared Jack. "Now, where is that other sound you heard?"
The question had hardly been formed on Jack's lips when that sound came to their ears—not faint and far off, as was the one that caused Julian to handle his revolver, but louder and clearer, as though the animal that made it was close upon them. Sometimes they thought it was in front, and they held their revolvers ready to shoot at a moment's warning, and then, again, it sounded behind them; and in a second more it appeared as if the rocks on each side of them concealed the enemy that was uttering those startling sounds.
"It is the echo—that's what it is," said Julian. "There is only one animal in here, and we can't shoot him any too quick."
Julian, aided by his lamp, led the way cautiously along the subterranean passage,which would have been level but for the carelessness or haste of the men who had worked the pit before them, peering into every little cavity he saw, until at last he stopped suddenly and pointed his revolver at something that lay upon the floor.
"What is it, Julian?" whispered Jack, pressing eagerly to his side.
"Well, sir, you have done it now," answered Julian, bending over and examining the animal as well as he could by the light of his lamp. "This is the thing that frightened the other two men away."
"What is it?" repeated Jack. "A panther?"
"No, sir; this animal will make two of the biggest panthers you ever saw. It is a lion!"
"In America?" said Jack, in astonishment.
"It is what the miners call them, anyway. When we get it into the bucket I will let you have the crank, and we will see if it does not weigh almost as much as you do. This animal is a mother, and her babies are crying for her."
Jack was surprised when he saw what amonster animal his lucky shot had put out of the way, for he did not lay any claim to his skill as a marksman in making that shot. He must have shot her plumb through the heart, or else she would not have died so quickly. She looked as big as a yearling, marked for all the world like the panthers he had seen in the shows which he had attended; but it was her size more than anything else which impressed him. It was wonderful, too, what a change the sight of this animal made in Jack. His courage all came back to him, and after taking a hasty glance at his trophy he took the lead and pressed on toward the farther end of the passage. Every few feet he found what the miners called "false diggings"—that is, places that they had dug, either on the right-hand side or the left, to see if the vein they were following turned that way. In one of these "false diggings" Jack stopped and pointed silently before him. Julian looked over Jack's shoulder, and saw that the miner had dug through the embankment there and into a cave which extended through into the gulch—the boys could see that by the littlestreaks of light which came in at the other end. On a slight shelf which formed one side of the passageway some leaves had been gathered, and in this bed were two cubs about the size of full-grown cats, while a third had crawled out and was trying, in his clumsy way, to follow his mother into the mine. The little thing was wild, and set up a furious spitting as the boys approached.
"These things account for the noise you heard," remarked Jack, picking up the cub and beating its head against the floor.
"What made you do that, Jack?" exclaimed Julian. "We ought to save the young ones alive."
"Well, suppose we do; what will we raise them on? It is true that we might tell the milkman to leave us an extra quart or two to feed them on, for such little things can't eat bacon and hard-tack. Now, after we get through—"
"By gracious, Jack—look out!" exclaimed Julian, suddenly. "The old man is coming home to see what's the matter with his young ones!"
Jack dropped the cub he had picked up, and which he was about to serve as he had the first, and, looking toward the farther end of the passageway, saw that the light was shut off by the head and shoulders of another monstrous lion that had stopped when he discovered the boys. In an instant two revolvers were aimed at the white spot on his chest.
"Be sure you make as good a shot as you did before," whispered Julian, whose face was as pale as Jack's was when he pulled him out of the pit. "It's a matter of life and death with us."
The revolvers cracked in quick succession, raising an echo that almost deafened them. Without a moment's delay they fired again, then threw themselves prone upon the floor of the cave, for they saw the lion coming. He had evidently got all ready for a spring, and when the first two bullets struck him he made it, jumping over them and landing in the pit beyond. The moment he touched the ground two more balls went into him, and then the boys jumped to their feet; for they did not want the lion to spring upon them while lyingdown. But the animal made no effort to recover his feet; he was too badly hurt for that. He struggled frantically, springing from the ground as high as the boys' heads, and his motions were so quick and rapid that there was no chance to shoot him again; but this lasted only for a few seconds. His struggles grew weaker, and he soon lay upon the floor, stone dead.
"There, sir," said Julian, who was the first to speak; "this is a haunted mine no longer. Our little 44-caliber revolvers did as good work as Banta would have done with his Winchester."
"Whew! I am glad it is all over, and that we were not frightened out of coming here. I don't believe in ghosts, anyway."
"How do you account for that man in the mine up the country who always gets farther and farther away every time anybody tries to touch him?" asked Julian.
"I believe that story originated in the minds of some miners who were afraid to go there. And as for their shooting at him, I don't take any stock in that, either. Now, Iwill finish what I was going to say when the old gentleman came in and interrupted me. After I have killed these cubs, we will go to work and fill this cave so full of the rocks which some of the miners have left scattered about that there won't be a chance for any other animal to make a commotion in this mine."
The work of dispatching the cubs was very soon accomplished, and then the boys wanted to get the lions above ground, so that they could see how they looked. But when they undertook to lift the "old gentleman," to carry him to the bucket, they found they had more than they could do; so they each took hold of a hind leg and dragged him to the shaft. When they came to put him in, they saw there was not room enough for the cubs, for the bucket would not hold any more.
"I'll go up and haul the old fellow out," said Jack. "I tell you, he is big enough to scare anybody—is he not?"
"Yes," answered Julian, with a laugh; "and if we had been frightened away, and somebody else had found out that they werelions, and not unearthly spirits, it would have been all over Denver inside of a month."
Jack, who said he thought that was so, seized the rope and began working his way toward the top. Then the bucket began to move, and presently Julian saw it go out over the top. In a few minutes Jack came down again, and they got the mother of the family ready to be hoisted up. Julian went up this time, tumbled the lion out beside his mate, and let down the bucket for the dead cubs and Jack, who, when he stepped out, found Julian with his hat off and drawing his shirt-sleeves across his forehead.
"I tell you, Jack, if the dirt you send up weighs as much as these ghosts did, the one who pulls it out will have the hardest part of the work," said Julian. "Now let us sit down and take a good look at them."
The longer the boys looked, the larger seemed to grow the animals that had created so great an uproar in the country for miles around. They regretted they had not brought a tape-line with them, that they might take measurements; but they came to one conclusion—ifthey found an animal like either of those in the mountains, they would give it a wide berth. They had read of encounters with them by men, and during their stay in Denver had listened to some thrilling stories, told by miners, of their fierceness, and they decided that those men had more pluck than they had.
"Let us take the skins off, and by that time it will be night," said Julian. "We can fill up the hole to-morrow."
"I don't know how to go to work at it—do you?" asked Jack, taking off his hat and scratching his head. "I never did such a piece of business in my life."
"We are not going to take them off with the intention of selling them; we are going to show them to the miners. If we tell them our story without anything to show for it, they will think we are trying to shoot with a long bow. If we make a few holes in the skins by a slip of our knives, who cares?"
The boys went to work on the cubs first, one holding the hind legs and the other doing the skinning, and they got along so well withthem that they went to work on the big ones with more confidence. By the time it grew dark the skins were removed, and the carcasses were dragged away and thrown into the ravine. Then the boys began supper with light hearts. The mystery of the haunted mine had been unearthed, and Julian and Jack were ready to dig up the treasure—that is, if there was any there waiting for them.
"Jack, come up here; I have something to show you."
"What is it? Have you made yourself rich by washing out the last bucket of earth I sent up?"
"I have something, and it looks like gold. Wait until I haul this bucket up, and then I'll send it down for you."
This conversation took place between Julian and his chum on the third morning after their arrival at the mine. The hole that led into the cave which the lions had made their habitation had been filled up so tight that even a ground-squirrel would have found it a hard task to work his way through; all the little rocks had been cleared away from the floor of the pit, making it an easy matter for them to carry the earth in a basket to the bottom of the shaft, and the digging had been going onfor two days without any signs of "color" rewarding their anxious gaze. The buckets of dirt, as fast as they were sent up, were washed in the brook by the aid of a "cradle" which the boys had brought with them, but their most persistent "rocking" failed to leave a sediment behind. All the dirt went out with the water, and the cradle was as clean when they got through rocking it as it was before they began.
"I believe the fellow who wrote that letter must have taken all the gold in the mine," remarked Julian, one night, after they had spent a hard day's work at the pit. "Fifty thousand dollars! That's a heap of money to take out of one hole in the ground."
"I think so myself," replied Jack; "but we will keep it up until our provisions are gone, and then we will go back to Dutch Flat."
But on this particular day Julian, who was washing the dirt at the head of the shaft, thought he saw some settlings in the bottom of his cradle, and forthwith began to handle it a little more carefully. The longer herocked the more the sediment grew, until at last he had a spoonful, which he gathered up and then approached the mouth of the pit.
"If you have any gold to show me I'll come up before the bucket does," declared Jack; "the bucket can wait."
"I have enough here to buy another block of houses," exclaimed Julian, as Jack's head and shoulders appeared. "What do you think of that?"
"Is it gold or not?" asked Jack, who was inclined to be suspicious. "Maybe it is some of that iron that Mr. Banta told us about."
"That is just what I was afraid of," said Julian; "but I reckon iron pyrites comes in lumps, don't it? If it does, this is gold, sure enough."
The boys did not know what to make of it, and they finally decided that they would put it away until Mr. Banta came up to see how they were getting along, which he had agreed to do at the end of two weeks. The boys spoke of their "find" as iron pyrites, for they did not like to think they would be luckyenough to dig gold out of the ground, and this was not the only spoonful of dust that went into their bag. The bag grew in size as the days wore on, and finally, at the end of two weeks, it was almost full.
"I tell you, Jack, I don't like to show this to Mr. Banta," declared Julian, holding up the bag, and looking ruefully at it. "Perhaps we have done all our best digging all for nothing."
"Well, it can't be helped," was Jack's reply. "They were inexperienced when they first came out here, and there was nobody to tell them whether they had iron pyrites or gold. But we have done one thing that he can't laugh at—we have worked the haunted mine."
Two weeks had never passed so slowly to the boys before. They worked early and late, but they found time now and then to glance toward the entrance of the valley, to see if Mr. Banta was approaching. All this while the bag grew heavier and fuller, until Julian declared that it would not hold another spoonful.
"Then we must tie it up tight and hide it somewhere," said Jack.
"What is the use of hiding it?" asked Julian. "Nobody knows that we have been so successful in our haunted mine."
"No matter; such things have happened, and we want to be on the safe side. We must hide it a little way from the lean-to, for there is the first place anybody will look for it."
Julian readily gave in, although he could not see any necessity for it, took a spade, and went with Jack to what he considered to be a good hiding-place. A hole was dug, the bag put in, some leaves were scattered over the spot, and then Jack drew a long breath of relief.
"One would think we are surrounded by robbers," said Julian. "Who do you suppose is going to steal it?"
"I don't know; but I have never had so much money, or what is equivalent to money, in my charge before, and, as I said before, I think it best to be on the safe side."
"Our two weeks have passed, and Mr. Banta ought to be here to-morrow," observedJulian, leading the way back to the lean-to. "I expect he will look for us to be all chawed up."
The very next day Mr. Banta appeared. The boys had found an extra "find" that morning. Julian was rocking the cradle back and forth, and Jack was leaning over his shoulder to see what gold there was in it, when they heard the sound of horses' hoofs on the rocks, and looked up to find the miner and his partner, Pete, standing in the entrance to the valley.
"Now we will soon have this thing cleared up," exclaimed Julian, joyfully. "Mr. Banta, you don't know how glad we are to see you again!"
Mr. Banta did not say anything in reply. He and his partner rode slowly toward them, looking all around, as if they expected to discover something.
"Is it the ghosts you are looking for?" asked Jack. "Come along, and we will show them to you."
"Boys," stammered Mr. Banta, as if there was something about the matter that lookedstrange enough to him, "you are still on top of the ground. Put it there."
The boys readily complied, and they thought, by the squeeze the miner gave their hands, that he was very much surprised to see them alive and well, and working their mine as if such things as ghosts had never been heard of.
"Did you see them?" he continued.
"You are right, we did," answered Julian. "Jack, pull off your shirt. He has some marks that he will carry to his grave."
Jack did not much like the idea of disrobing in the presence of company, but he divested himself of his shirt and turned his back to the miners. On his shoulder were four big welts, which promised to stay there as long as he lived.
"It was a lion!" exclaimed Mr. Banta.
"That is just what it was. Now come with me and I will show you the skins. We have something to prove it."
The miners followed after the boys, when, as they were about to pass their pit, Julian said he wanted to see them about somethingthat had been worrying them a good deal ever since they first discovered it.
"What do you call that?" he asked, gathering up a pinch of the sediment that still remained in the cradle.
"Good gracious! Do you gather much of this stuff?" exclaimed Mr. Banta, who was all excitement now.
"It is not iron pyrites, is it?"
"Iron your grandmother!" retorted Mr. Banta. "It is gold, and a bag full of that stuff will be worth about ten thousand dollars to you!"
"We have a bagful of it hidden away," asserted Julian; while Jack was so overcome with something, he didn't know what, that he sat right down on the ground. "Jack thought we had best hide it, but I will get it and show it to you."
"Well, well! this beats anything in the world that I ever heard of! Don't it you, Pete?" asked Mr. Banta, dismounting from his horse. "Here's you two, come out here as tenderfeet from St. Louis, who never saw or heard of a gold-mine before, and you comeup to this pit, which has all manner of ghosts and other things wandering about it at will,—so much so that they scared away two of the best men we had on Dutch Flat,—and then you get the upper hand of the spirits and make ten thousand dollars out of the mine in two weeks! I tell you that bangs me; don't it you, Pete?"
Jack came up to take the horses and hitch them to swinging limbs, and Mr. Banta turned to Julian and told him he was anxious to see that bag with the ten thousand dollars in gold in it; whereupon Julian caught up a spade and hurried out, and Jack, who had returned to the lean-to, was told to sit down and tell them the story about the haunted gold-mine.
"There isn't much to tell," said Jack, who, like all modest fellows, disliked to talk about himself. "I went down to see what the inside of the mine looked like, and one of the lions pitched onto me and I shot him."
"There's more in the story than that comes to," declared Mr. Banta. "Let us go out and look at the skins; we will hear the straight of the matter when Julian comes in."
The skins were rolled up,—they had been stretched on the ground until the sun dried them,—but Jack quickly unrolled them, and the miners looked on as if greatly surprised. They could not understand how one ball, fired in the dark, had finished the lion so speedily.
"It is a wonder she did not tear you all to pieces," said Pete. "You must have made a dead-centre shot."
The other skin was unrolled, too, and by the time the miners had examined it to their satisfaction Julian came up with the bag. Mr. Banta untied it, and one look was enough.
"That is gold," said he; "there is no iron pyrites about that. Now, Jack, you go on and get dinner for us, and we will listen while Julian tell us about those ghosts."
"I told you I did not believe in such things," remarked Julian. "And the whole thing has come out just as I said it would."
"What have you in this pack?" asked Jack. "It looks like provisions."
"That is just what it is. We thought you must be nearly out by this time, and so we brought some along. Let the mule go home,if she wants to; she misses that old bell-mare."
The story which Jack did not tell lost nothing in going through Julian's hands. He described things as nearly as he could see them before Jack's light went out, and told of the lucky shot and the savage shrieks that came up to him through the pit.
"Those shrieks were what got next to me," declared Julian, with a shudder. "I can't get them out of my mind yet. I thought that the ghost had Jack, sure."
"Well, go on," said Mr. Banta, when Julian paused. "There were two lions there—how did you get the other one?"
When Julian told how Jack had taken charge of the matter, and had gone ahead in order to hunt up the other ghost, Mr. Banta acted as though he could scarcely believe it; while Pete thrust his spurred heels out before him and broke out into a volley of such quaint oaths that Julian threw back his head and laughed loudly.
"If you had not done anything else since you have been up here but go to hunt up thatlion with revolvers, I should know you were tenderfeet pure and simple," declared Mr. Banta. "Why, boys, that was the most dangerous thing you ever did!"
"Well, we did not know what else to do," explained Julian, modestly. "Jack said the lion would not let us work the mine if he could help it, and so we had to go and find him."
"I know some miners down at Dutch Flat who would think twice before going for that lion with their Winchesters," declared Pete, "and you had nothing but little popguns!"
"They did the work, anyhow," asserted Julian.
"Well, boys, you have been very lucky," said Mr. Banta. "Take your bag of dust and hide it where nobody will ever think of looking for it. And remember—if any person comes here and asks you for money, you are to give him what is in the other bag, and keep still about this full one."
Julian's eyes began to open wide as this hint was thrown out. He looked at Jack, who was by this time engaged in dishing up the dinner;but the latter only shook his head at him, as if to say, "Didn't I say we had better hide that gold while we had the opportunity?"
"Who do you think is going to rob us?" asked Julian, as soon as he could speak.
"I am sure I don't know; but we have some men down at the Flat who would not be any too good to come up here and see how you are getting along. Of course this thing will get all over the Flat in less than five minutes after we get there. We must tell just how we found you; for, if we try to keep it secret, the miners will suspect something and come up here in a body. But if they do that, then you will be safer than if you were alone."
"We don't want any truck with such people," declared Jack. "If we shoot as well as we did at the lion that wore that big skin, you will hear something drop. Now sit up and eat some dinner."
"Jack, I believe you have the most pluck," said Pete.
"He has it all," replied Julian. "He don't say much, but he keeps up a dreadful lot of thinking."
Dinner over, the miners lit their pipes, and then Mr. Banta said they wanted to go down into the mine to see how it looked.
"It is my opinion that you won't get much more gold out of here," said he, as he stepped into the bucket. "You are gradually working your way toward the ravine, and when you break through the wall, you will find no color there."
"I don't care," replied Julian. "If it will hold out until we get another bag filled, that will be all we want. We can say, when we get back to Denver, that we have been in the mines."
"And had some adventures there, too," remarked Mr. Banta. "Lower away."
Julian and Pete followed Mr. Banta down to the bottom of the mine, and Jack stayed up above to manage the bucket. They were gone a long time, for Julian was obliged to tell his story over again; and, when they were pulled up, Mr. Banta repeated what he had said before he was let down, namely, that the boys had about reached the end of their vein.
"But even with these bags full, you havegot more than some men have who have been on the Flat for two years," said he. "Now, boys, is there anything we can do for you before we bid you good-bye?"
No, Julian and Jack could not think of anything they wanted. They thanked the miners for bringing them some provisions, and offered payment on the spot; but Mr. Banta said they would let that go until the boys had got through working their mine. They shook them by the hand, wished them all the good luck in the world, turned their faces toward home, and in a few moments the sound of their horses' hoofs on the rocks had died away in the distance.
"There!" said Mr. Solomon Claus, as he entered at a fast walk the railroad depot, passed through it, and took up the first back street that he came to; "I guess I have got rid of him. Now, the next thing is to go somewhere and sit down and think about it."
Claus kept a good watch of the buildings as he passed along, and at last saw a hotel, into which he turned. He bought a cigar at the bar, and, drawing a chair in front of one of the windows, sat down to meditate on his future course; for this German was not in the habit of giving up a thing upon which he had set his mind, although he might fail in every attempt he undertook. He had set his heart upon having a portion of that money that Julian had come into by accident, and, although something had happened to upset his calculations, he was not done with it yet.
"That was a sharp trick, sending off the box by express, when they might as well have carried its contents in their valises," said Claus, settling down in his chair and keeping his eyes fastened upon the railroad depot. "Wiggins was at the bottom of that, for I don't believe the boys would ever have thought of it. I wonder how they felt when they found their valises gone? Now, the next thing is something else. Shall I go home, get my clothes, and spend the winter in Denver, or shall I go home and stay there? That's a question that cannot be decided in a minute."
While Claus was endeavoring to come to some conclusion on these points he saw Casper Nevins coming along the railroad and entering the depot. By keeping a close watch of the windows he discovered him pass toward the ticket office, where he made known his wants, and presently Claus saw him put a ticket into his pocket.
"So far, so good," muttered Claus, as he arose from his chair. "I guess I might as well get on the train with him, for I must goto St. Louis anyhow. Perhaps something will occur to me in the meantime."
Casper was sitting on a bench, with his hands clasped and his chin resting on his breast, wondering what in the world he was going to do when he got back to St. Louis, when he heard Claus's step on the floor. He first had an idea that he would not speak to him at all; but Solomon acted in such a friendly manner, when he met him, that he could not fail to accost him with
"You were trying to shake me, were you?"
"Shake you! my dear fellow," exclaimed Claus, as if he were profoundly astonished. "Such a thing never entered my head! I simply wanted to get away by myself and think the matter over. Have a cigar."
"I don't want it!" declared Casper, when Claus laid it down upon his knee. "I don't believe I shall want many cigars or anything else very long."
"Disappointed over not finding that wealth, were you?" asked Claus, in a lower tone. "Well, I was disappointed myself, and for a time I did not want to see you or anybodyelse. I have wasted a heap of hard-earned dollars upon that 'old horse.'"
"Have you given it up, too?" inquired Casper.
"What else can I do? Of course I have given it up. I will go back home again and settle down to my humdrum life, and I shall never get over moaning about that hundred thousand dollars we have lost."
"Do you think we tried every plan to get it?"
"Every one that occurred to me. They have it, and that is all there is to it. What are you going to do when you get back to St. Louis?" inquired Claus, for that was a matter in which he was very much interested. He was not going to have Casper hanging onto him; on that he was determined.
"I suppose I shall have to do as others do who are without work," replied Casper. "I shall go around to every store, and ask them if they want a boy who isn't above doing anything that will bring him his board and clothes. I wish I had my old position back; I'll bet you that I would try to keep it."
"That is the best wish you have made in a long time," said Claus, placing his hand on Casper's shoulder. "If I was back there, with my money in my pocket, I would not care if every one of the express boys would come and shove an 'old horse' at me. I tell you, 'honesty is the best policy.'"
Casper was almost ready to believe that Claus had repented of his bargain, but he soon became suspicious of him again. That was a queer phrase to come from the lips of a man who believed in cheating or lying for the purpose of making a few dollars by it. For want of something better to do, he took up the cigar which Claus had laid upon his knee and proceeded to light it.
"Well, I guess I'll go and get a ticket," remarked Claus, after a little pause. "I don't know how soon that train will be along."
"'Honesty is the best policy,' is it?" mused Casper, watching Claus as he took up his stand in the door and looked away down the railroad. "Some people would believe him, but I have known him too long for that. I wish I knew what he has in his head. Heis going to try to get his hands on that 'old horse'; and if he does, I hope he will fail, just as we have done. He need not think that I am going to hold fast to him. I have had one lesson through him, and that is enough."
Claus did not seem anxious to renew his conversation with Casper. He had heard all the latter's plans, as far as he had any, and now he wanted to think up some of his own. He walked up and down the platform with his hands behind his back, all the while keeping a bright lookout down the road for the train.
"I must go to Denver, because I shall want to make the acquaintance of some fellows there whom I know I can trust," soliloquized Claus. "I can get plenty of men in St. Louis, but they are not the ones I want. I must have some men who know all about mining, and perhaps I can get them to scrape an acquaintance with Julian. That will be all the better, for then I can find out what he is going to do. Well, we will see how it looks when I get home."
For half an hour Claus walked the platformoccupied with such thoughts as these, and finally a big smoke down the track told him the train was coming. He stuck his head in at the door and informed Casper of the fact, and when the train came up he boarded one of the forward cars, leaving his companion to do as he pleased.
"You are going to shake me," thought Casper, as he stepped aboard the last car in the train. "Well, you might as well do it at one time as at another. I have all the money I can get out of you, but I am not square with you by any means. From this time forward I'll look out for myself."
And the longer Casper pondered upon this thought, the more heartily he wished he had never seen Claus in the first place. He did not sleep a wink during his ride to St. Louis, but got off the train when it reached its destination and took a straight course for his room. The apartment seemed cheerless after his experience on the train, but he closed the door, threw himself into a chair, and resumed his meditations, for thus far he had not been able to decide upon anything.
"I am hungry," thought he, at length, "and after I have satisfied my appetite I will do just what I told Claus—go around to the different stores and ask them if they want a boy. I tell you that will be a big come-down for me, but it serves me right for having anything to do with Claus."
We need not go with Casper any further. For three nights he returned from his long walks tired and hungry, and not a single storekeeper to whom he had applied wanted a boy for any purpose whatever. Sometimes he had sharp words to dishearten him. "No, no; get out of here—you are the fifth boy who has been at me this morning;" and Casper always went, for fear the man would lay violent hands on him. On the fourth night he came home feeling a little better than usual. He had been hired for a few days to act as porter in a wholesale dry-goods store, and he had enough money in his pocket to pay for a good supper. The wages he received were small—just about enough to pay for breakfast and supper; but when the few days were up the hurry was over, and Casper was oncemore a gentleman of leisure. And so it was during the rest of the summer and fall. He could not get anything to do steadily, his clothes were fast wearing out, and the landlord came down on him for his rent when he did not have a cent in his pocket. Utterly discouraged, at last he wrote to his mother for money to carry him to his home; and so he passes out of our sight.
As for Claus, we wish we could dispose of him in the same way; but unfortunately we cannot. Everybody was glad to see him when he entered the pool-room where he had been in the habit of playing, and more than one offered him a cigar. He told a long story about some business he had to attend to somewhere out West, and when he talked he looked up every time the door opened, as if fearful that Casper would come in to bother him for more money. But Casper was sick of Claus. The lesson he had received from him was enough.
Claus remained in St. Louis for two months; and he must have been successful, too, for the roll of bills he carried away with him wasconsiderably larger than the one which Casper had seen. When he was ready to go he bade everybody good-bye, and this time he carried his trunk with him. He was going out West to attend to "some business," which meant that he was going to keep watch of Julian and Jack in some way, and be ready to pounce upon them when they worked their mine—that is, if they were successful with it.
"That will be the only thing I can do," decided Claus, after thinking the matter over. "They have the buildings by this time, at any rate, so that part of it has gone up; but when they get out alone, and are working in their mine, that will be the time for me to take them. They will have all the work, but I will have the dust they make."
When Claus reached this point in his meditations, he could not help remembering that some of the men who were interested in the mines were dead shots with either rifle or revolver, and that if he robbed the boys he would be certain to have some of them after him, and what they would do if they caught him was another matter altogether.
"I can shoot as well as they can," thought he, feeling around for his hip pocket to satisfy himself that his new revolver was still in its place. "If I have some of their money in my pocket, I would like to see any of the miners come up with me."
When Claus reached Denver, his first care was to keep clear of Julian and Jack, and his next was to find some miners who were familiar with the country in the region bordering on Dutch Flat; for thus far Claus had not been able to learn a thing about it. Dutch Flat might be five miles away or it might be a hundred, and he wanted somebody to act as his guide. He put up at a second-rate hotel, engaged his room, and then came down into the reading-room to keep watch of the men who tarried there.
"I must find somebody whose face tells me he would not be above stealing a hundred thousand dollars if he had a good chance," decided Claus; "but the countenances of these men all go against me—they are too honest. I guess I'll have to try the clerk, and see what I can get out of him."
On the second day, as Claus entered the reading-room with a paper in his hand, he saw before him a man sitting by a window, his feet elevated higher than his head, watching the people going by. He was a miner,—there could be no doubt about that,—and he seemed to be in low spirits about something, for every little while he changed his position, yawned, and stretched his arms as if he did not know what to do with himself. Claus took just one look at him, then seized a chair and drew it up by the man's side. The man looked up to see who it was, and then looked out on the street again.
"Excuse me," began Claus, "but you seem to be a miner."
"Well, yes—I have dabbled in that a little," answered the man, turning his eyes once more upon Claus. "What made you think of that?"
"I judged you by your clothes," replied Claus. "Have a cigar? Then, perhaps you will tell me if you know anything about Dutch Flat, where there is—"
"Don't I know all about it?" interruptedthe man. "Ask me something hard. A bigger fraud than that Dutch Flat was never sprung on any lot of men. There is no color of gold up there."
"Then what made you go there in the first place?" asked Claus.
"It got into the hands of a few men who were afraid of the Indians, and they coaxed me and my partner to go up," replied the man. "But there were no Indians there. I prospected around there for six months, owe more than I shall ever be able to pay for grub-staking, and finally, when the cold weather came, I slipped out."
"I am sorry to hear that," remarked Claus, looking down at the floor in a brown study. "I have a mine up there, and I was about to go up and see how things were getting on there; but if the dirt pans out as you say, it will not be worth while."
"You had better stay here, where you have a good fire to warm you during this frosty weather," said the man, once more running his eyes over Claus's figure. "If you have a mine up there you had better let it go; youare worth as much money now as you would be if you stayed up there a year."
"But I would like to go and see the mine," replied Claus. "There was a fortune taken out of it a few years ago, and it can't be that the vein is all used up yet."
"Whereisyour mine?"
"That is what I don't know. I have somehow got it into my head the mine is off by itself, a few miles from everybody else's."
"Do you mean the haunted mine?" asked the man, now beginning to take some interest in what Claus was saying.
"I believe that is what they call it."
"It is five miles from Dutch Flat, straight off through the mountains. You can't miss it, for there is a trail that goes straight to it."
"Do you know where it is?"
"Yes, I know; but that is all I do know about it. I saw two men who went there to work the pit, and who were frightened so badly that they lit out for this place as quick as they could go, and that was all I wanted to know of the mine."
"Then you have never been down in it?"
"Not much, I haven't!" exclaimed the man, looking surprised. "I would not go down into it for all the money there is in the mountain."
"Did those men see anything?"
"No, but they heard a sight; and if men can be so badly scared by what they hear, they don't wait to see anything."
"Well, I want to go up there, and who can I get to act as my guide?"
"I can tell you one thing," answered the man, emphatically—"you won't get me and Jake to go up there with you. I'll tell you what I might do," he added, after thinking a moment. "Are you going to stay here this winter?"
"Yes, I had thought of it. It is pretty cold up there in the mountains—is it not?"
"The weather is so cold that it will take the hair right off of your head," replied the man. "If you will stay here until spring opens, you might hire me and Jake to show you up as far as Dutch Flat; but beyond that we don't budge an inch."
"How much will you charge me? And another thing—do I have to pay you for waiting until spring?"
"No, you need not pay us a cent. We have enough to last us all winter. I was just wondering what I was going to do when spring came, and that made me feel blue. But if you are going to hire us—you will be gone three or four months, won't you?"
Yes, Claus thought that he would be gone as long as that. Then he asked, "How far is Dutch Flat from here?"
"Two hundred miles."
The two then began an earnest conversation in regard to the money that was to be paid for guiding Claus up to Dutch Flat. The latter thought he had worked the thing just about right. It would be time enough to tell him who Julian and Jack were, and to talk about robbing them, when he knew a little more concerning the man and his partner. He had not seen the other man yet, but he judged that, if he were like the miner he was talking to, it would not be any great trouble to bring them to his own way of thinking.
Never had a winter appeared so long and so utterly cheerless as this one did to Solomon Claus. The first thing he did, after he made the acquaintance of Jake and his partner, was to change his place of abode. Jake was as ready to ask for cigars as Claus had been, and the latter found that in order to make his money hold out he must institute a different state of affairs. He found lodgings at another second-rate hotel in a distant part of the city, but he found opportunity to run down now and then to call upon Bob and Jake,—those were the only two names he knew them by,—to see how they were coming along, and gradually lead the way up to talking about the plans he had in view. It all came about by accident. One day, when discussing the haunted mine, Claus remarked that he knew the two boys who were workingit, and hoped they would have a good deal of dust on hand by the time he got here.
"Then they will freeze to death!" declared Bob. "What made you let them go there, if you knew the mine was haunted?"
"Oh, they are not working it now," said Claus. "They are in St. Louis, and are coming out as soon as spring opens. They are plucky fellows, and will find out all about those ghosts before they come back."
"Yes, if the ghosts don't run them away," answered Bob. "I understood you to say they are boys. Well, now, if they get the better of the ghosts, which is something I won't believe until I see it, and we should get there about a month or two after they do, and find that they have dug up dust to the amount of ten or fifteen thousand dollars—eh?"
"But maybe the gentleman is set on those two boys, and it would not pay to rob them," remarked Jake.
"No, I am not set on them," avowed Claus, smiling inwardly when he saw how readily the miners fell in with his plans. "I tried my level best to get those boys to stay athome, for I don't want them to dig their wealth out of the ground, but they hooted at me; and when I saw they were bound to come, I thought I would get up here before them and see what sort of things they had to contend with."
"What sort of relationship do you bear to the two boys?" asked Bob.
"I am their uncle, and I gave them a block of buildings here in Denver worth a hundred thousand dollars and this haunted mine; but, mind you, I did not know it was haunted until after I had given it to them. But, boy like, they determined to come up, brave the ghosts, and take another fifty thousand out of it."
Bob and Jake looked at each other, and something told them not to believe all that Claus had said to them. If he was worth so much money that he was willing to give his nephews a hundred thousand dollars of it, he did not live in the way his means would allow.
"And another thing," resumed Claus. "I would not mind their losing ten thousanddollars, provided I got my share of it, for then they would learn that a miner's life is as full of dangers as any other. But remember—if you get ten thousand, I want three thousand of it."
This was all that Claus thought it necessary to say on the subject of robbing the boys, and after finishing his cigar he got up and went out. Jake watched him until he was hidden in the crowd on the street, and then settled back in his chair and looked at Bob.
"There is something wrong with that fellow," he remarked. "His stories don't hitch; he has some other reason for wishing to rob those boys. Now, what is it?"
"You tell," retorted Bob. "He has something on his mind, but he has no more interest in that pit than you or I have. He never owned it, in the first place."
"Then we will find out about it when we show him the way to the Flat," said Jake.
"Oh, there will be somebody there working the mine—I don't dispute that. But he is no uncle to them two boys. But say—I have just thought of something. We are notgoing up there for three dollars a day; and if we don't make something out of the boys, what's the reason we can't go to headquarters?"
Jake understood all his companion would have said, for he winked and nodded his head in a way that had a volume of meaning in it. The two moved their chairs closer together, and for half an hour engaged in earnest conversation. There was only one thing that troubled them—they did not like the idea of staying at Dutch Flat, among the miners, until they heard how the boys were getting on with their mine.
"You know they did not like us any too well last summer," said Bob, twisting about in his chair. "If we had not come away just when we did, it is my belief they would have ordered us out."
"Yes; and it was all on your account, too. You were too anxious to know how much the other fellows had dug out of their mines. You must keep still and say nothing."
Claus went away from the hotel feeling very much relieved. Bob and Jake hadcome over to his plans, and they had raised no objection to them. The next thing was to bring them down to a share in the spoils. He was not going to come out there all the way from St. Louis and propose that thing to them, and then put up with what they chose to give him.
"I must have a third of the money they make, and that is all there is about it," said he to himself. "They would not have known a thing about it if it had not been for me. Who is that? I declare, it is Julian and Jack!"
The boys were coming directly toward him, and this was the first time he had seen them since his arrival in Denver, although he had kept a close watch of everybody he had met on the street. He stepped into a door, and appeared to be looking for some one inside; and when the boys passed him, he turned around to look at them. The latter were in a hurry, for it was a frosty morning, and they felt the need of some exercise to quicken their blood; besides, they were on their way to school, in the hope of learning something thatwould fit them for some useful station in life. They were dressed in brand-new overcoats, had furs around their necks and fur gloves on their hands, and Julian was bent partly over, laughing at some remark Jack had made. He watched them until they were out of sight, and then came out and went on his way.
"I tell you we are 'some,' now that we have our pockets full of money," soliloquized Claus, who grew angry when he drew a contrast between his and their station in life. "Most anybody would feel big if he was in their place. But I must look out—I don't want them to see me here."
Fortunately Claus was not again called upon to dodge the boys in his rambles about the city. He kept himself in a part of the city remote from that which the boys frequented. The winter passed on, and spring opened, and he did not again see them; but he heard of them through Bob and Jake, who made frequent visits to the hotel where Mr. Banta was located.
"I guess we saw your boys to-day," saidBob, who then went on to give a description of them. "They have it all cut and dried with Banta, and he is going to show them the way to their mine. No, they did not mention your name once. They are going to buy a pack-horse, and load him up with tools and provisions, and are going out as big as life."
"That is all right," said Claus. "Now, remember—I am to have a third of the dust you get."
"Of course; that is understood," answered Jake, who now seemed as anxious to go to Dutch Flat as he had before been to keep away from it. "It would not be fair for us to take it all. Where are you going after you get the money?"
"I haven't got it yet," remarked Claus, with a smile. "Those ghosts may be too strong for the boys, and perhaps they will come away without anything."
"Then we will pitch in and work the mine, ourselves," said Bob. "They say that gold is so thick up there that you can pick it up with your hands. We won't come away and leave such a vein behind us."
"What about the ghosts?" queried Claus, who could not deny he was afraid of them. "They may be too strong for you, also."
"If they can get away with cold steel we'll give in to them," said Jake. "But I'll risk that. Where are you going when you get the money? Of course you can't go back to St. Louis."
"No; I think I shall go on to California. I have always wanted to see that State."
"Well, we will go East. Three thousand dollars, if they succeed in digging out ten thousand, added to what we shall make—humph!" said Bob; and then he stopped before he had gone any further.
It was a wonder that Claus did not suspect something, but his mind was too fully occupied with other matters. Where was he going when he got the money? That was something that had not occurred to Claus before, and he found out that he had something yet to worry him.
"You fellows seem to think you will get rich by robbing those boys," remarked Claus, knowing that he must say something.
"No, we don't," answered Jake; "but that will be enough to keep us until we can turn our hands to some other kind of work. Now about our pack-horse, tools and provisions. You have money enough to pay for them, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes—that is, I have a little," Claus replied, cautiously, for he was afraid the miners might want more of it than he felt able to spend. "But I tell you I shall be hard up after I get those things."
"You have other money besides what you gave the boys," said Bob. "You can write to St. Louis for more."
"But I don't want to do that. I have with me just what I can spare, for my other funds are all invested."
"Oh, you can get more for the sake of what is coming to you," said Jake, carelessly. "Now, we want to start for Dutch Flat in about a week. That will give the boys time to fight the ghosts and get to work in their pit. Suppose we go and see about our pack-horse and tools."
Claus would have been glad to have putthis thing off for a day or two, but he could not see any way to get out of it. He went with the miners, who knew just where they wanted to go, and the horse he bought was a perfect rack of bones that did not seem strong enough to carry himself up to Dutch Flat, let alone a hundredweight of tools and provisions with him. The tools he bought were to be left in the store until they were called for, and the miners drew a long breath of relief, for that much was done. If Claus at any time got sick of his bargain, and wanted to haul out, he could go and welcome; but they would hold fast to his tools and provisions, and use them in prospecting somewhere else.
The morning set apart for their departure came at last, and Claus and his companions put off at the first peep of day. They made the journey of two hundred miles without any mishap, and finally rode into the camp of Dutch Flat just as the miners were getting ready to have their dinner. They all looked up when they heard the newcomers, and some uttered profane ejaculations under their breath, while others greeted them in a way that Clausdid not like, for it showed him how his partners stood there with the miners.
"Well, if there ain't Bob I'm a Dutchman!" exclaimed one, straightening up and shading his eyes with his hand. "You are on hand, like a bad five-dollar bill—ain't you? I was in hopes you were well on your way to the States by this time."
"No, sir; I am here yet," answered Bob. "You don't mind if I go and work my old claim, do you? I don't reckon that anybody has it."
"Mighty clear of anybody taking your claim," said another. "You can go there and work it, for all of us; but we don't want you snooping around us like you did last summer."
"What is the matter with those fellows?" asked Claus, when they were out of hearing. "What did you men do here last summer?"
"Just nothing at all," replied Jake. "We wanted to know how much gold everybody was digging, and that made them jealous of us."
"But if you can't mingle with them as youdid then, how are you going to find out about the haunted mine?"
"Oh, we'll mix with them just as we did last year, only we sha'n't have so much to say to them," said Jake. "Here is our claim, and it don't look as though anybody had been nigh it."
Claus was both surprised and downhearted. If he had known that the miners were going to extend such a reception as that to him he would have been the last one to go among them. There he was, almost alone, with two hundred brawny fellows around him, each one with a revolver strapped to his waist, and their looks and actions indicated that if necessity required it they would not be at all reluctant to use them. He managed to gather up courage to visit the general camp-fire, which was kindled just at dark, where the miners met to smoke their pipes and tell about what had happened in their mines during the day. This one had not made anything. The dirt promised fairly, and he hoped in a few days to strike a vein that would pay him and his partner something. Another had tappeda little vein, and he believed that by the time he got a rock out of his way he would stumble onto a deposit that would make him so rich that he would start for the States in short order.
"Well, partner, how do you come on?" asked the man who was sitting close to Claus, who was listening with all his ears. "Does your dirt pan out any better than it did last summer?"
"We have not seen the color of anything yet," replied Claus. "I do not believe there is any gold there."
"You are a tenderfoot, ain't you?"
"Yes; I never have been in the mines before."
"And you will wish, before you see your friends again, that you had never seen them this time. If you get any dust, you hide it where your partners can't find it."
There was one man, who did not take any part in the conversation, that kept a close watch on Claus and listened to every word he said. It was Mr. Banta, who wondered what in the world could have happened to bring sogentlemanly appearing a man up there in company with Bob and Jake.
"He must have money somewhere about his good clothes, and that is what Bob is after," said he to himself. "But if that is the case, why did they not jump him on the way here? I think he will bear watching."
Three nights passed in this way, Claus always meeting the miners at the general camp-fire, while his partners stayed at home and waited for him to come back and tell them the news, and on the fourth evening Banta seemed lost in thought. He sat and gazed silently into the fire, unmindful of the tales that were told and the songs that were sung all around him. At last one of the miners addressed him.
"Well, Banta, I suppose this is your last evening with us," he remarked.
"Yes; I go off to-morrow."
"Don't you wish you had not promised to go up there?"
"No, I don't; I shall find out if the boys are all right, anyway. That is what I care the most about. I shall take some provisionswith me, and if the boys are above ground I will leave them; otherwise, I shall bring them back."
"Oh, the boys must have the better of the ghosts by this time," said another; "they would have been here before this time if they had not. You will find them with more gold stowed away than they know what to do with."
"And didn't they see the ghosts at all?"
"Why, as to that, I can't say. But they have beaten them at their own game. You will see."
Claus pricked up his ears when he heard this, and when the miners had all drawn away, one by one, and sought their blankets in their lean-to's, he asked of the man who sat near him, and who was waiting to smoke his pipe out before he went to bed,
"Where is Banta going?"
"Up to the haunted mine," was the reply. "You see, he went up there two weeks ago with the boys, and promised to come back in two weeks to see how they were coming on. His two weeks are up to-night."
"What is up there, anyway?"
"Well, you can ask somebody else to answer that question," said the miner, getting upon his feet. "I don't know what is up there, and I don't want to know."
The miner walked off and left Claus sitting there alone. He was certain that he was on the right track at last. As soon as Banta came back they would know something about the haunted mine.