Part 13 (1/2)
”He won't pay any more than he has to,” rejoined Reade.
”Do you really want to work for Dunlop?”
”I really don't care a straw whether I do or not,” was Tom's answer.
”Harry, we're in the very heart of the gold country and we don't need to work for copper pennies.”
”If you'll allow me to say so, friends,” put in Jim Ferrers, ”I believe you two are the original pair with long heads and I'm going to stick to you as long as you'll let me.”
”Me, too,” piped up Alf Drew ungrammatically.
The young cigarette fiend was at that instant engaged in rolling one of his paper abominations.
Click-ick-ick-ick!
”Rattlers again!” s.h.i.+vered Alf.
Paper and tobacco fell from his fingers and he fled in terror.
CHAPTER VI
TOM CATCHES THE ”NEVADA FEVER”
Two nights pa.s.sed without adventure. On each of these nights the three campers---for Alf didn't ”count” divided the hours of darkness into three watches, each standing guard in his turn.
On the third morning after the departure of the Bright Hope group the campers were seated at breakfast around the packing case that served as table.
”I feel as though we ought to be at work,” suggested Hazelton.
”Good!” mocked Tom. ”You've been riding every day lately, and I have remained in camp, testing samples of ore that I've picked up on my strolls.”
”You take the horse today,” proposed Harry, ”and I'll stay in camp and work.”
”Suppose both of us stay in and work,” proposed Reade.
”That'll be all right, too,” nodded Harry, pleasantly. ”May I ask, Tom, what you're up to, anyway?”
”Yes,” Reade smiled. ”If the Bright Hope is a real mine there must be other good property in this region. I've been looking about, and making an a.s.say every now and then. Jim, you've prospected a bit, haven't you?”
”Yes,” nodded the guide. ”And, gentlemen, in my day I've been sole owner of three claims, each one of which panned out a fortune.”
”Great!” glowed Harry. ”But how did you lose your money, Jim!”
”I never got a cent out of any of the mines,” rejoined the guide grimly.
”How did that happen?”
”Did you ever hear of 'square gamblers'?” inquired Ferrers.
”Some,” Tom admitted with a grimace. ”We ran up against one of that brood in Arizona, eh, Harry?”