Part 17 (1/2)

Later in the afternoon there was a great commotion a little distance up the trail, and Mr. Allen hastened to investigate the shouting and sounds of chopping. To his great disgust he found Sleepy dealing heavy blows to an old pine tree with an ax while the perspiration was running down his face. He was prancing about in great excitement.

”What on earth?” questioned Mr. Allen.

”I'm trying to get a squirrel. I saw him up in this tree just a moment ago,” cried Sleepy.

”Is that all you can find to do to use up your energy?” asked Mr. Allen dryly. Sleepy looked at him sheepishly, then hung his head and slowly returned to the cabin, brought a pail of water from the stream, then crawled up into the bunk, out of sight.

By the time things were straightened around in the cabin so that the mason could build the fireplace it was time to be starting home, but every one was too tired from the day's work. They decided they would rest in the cool shade for an hour before beginning the tramp down. It would then be twilight.

Willis took this occasion to do a little exploring on his own account. He had worked faithfully all day and was very tired, but he did so want to find his father's mine before he went home this time. He slipped away un.o.bserved and took the lower trail, which followed up to the remains of the second bridge, then climbed to the tumbled-down cabin they had found the first day. Here he took the trail that led far up into the timber.

Finally he saw far up above him what appeared to be an old mine dump.

Quickly he clambered up over rocks and rotting logs toward it, and in a few moments he stood on the dump itself, which was of hard black stone, with the exception of just a little quartz. He was sure it was the same kind of stone he had seen on the old mantle at his grandfather's.

The quartz was apparently the last stone dumped.

At one side stood an old mine shaft, perhaps fifty feet deep, with an ancient hand-made windla.s.s still at the top. Then just to one side and entering the mountain was a great log door, put together with bolts. The lock was a strong powder-house lock, made of heavy bra.s.s. The place gave no appearance of having seen a man in many years. The hinges and hasp on the great door were heavily corroded, and an old metal wheelbarrow lay on the dump, rusted red. A tin sign fastened to a tree at the side of the tunnel had become a target for expert gunners. Willis tried the door, but could not force it a particle. Turning, he stood looking off into the canyon toward Cheyenne. ”So this is the spot,” he mused; ”and it has never been touched in these ten years. Poor old daddy, poor old daddy!”

He leaned heavily against the log door, and his thoughts came thick and fast, only to conclude, as they always did, with, ”Where is Tad Kieser and why does my uncle try to keep me away from this spot?”

He was standing where his father had stood many times, and the boy seemed to be very conscious of his presence just then. He wondered if, perhaps, there had not been something of just love for the place itself, as well as for the gold, which had drawn his father there so irresistibly. Such a spot for a long, quiet visit with one's self! Below him the stream and the little cabin; to one side, and a little farther up, the beautiful falls, with Cookstove in the background; to the other side the park, all resplendent in yellow leaves, with here and there a tall pine standing like a green island in a sea of gently-moving gold. Far away over the ridge was the blue outline of Cheyenne with its stage road creeping round the base. He sat down to rest and to think. He was suddenly awakened from his dream by seeing Mr. Allen closing and locking the cabin door below him. He rose and hastened down the trail. In a few moments he had joined the party, but he kept silent about where he had been and what he had seen.

”You'll have to let me in the cabin a moment, Mr. Allen,” he called; ”I left my coat up in the bunk--I forgot it.” The door was unlocked and Willis entered, hastily climbing the little ladder up the side of the wall to the bunk. It was dark in the cabin, for the sun had set. As he stepped into the bunk he touched something, then jumped back with an exclamation. Sleepy raised up on his elbow and looked about him. In a terror-stricken voice he called out, ”Who are you?” Willis laughed so heartily that the fellows came hurrying into the cabin to see what occasioned it. Then followed a great deal of fun at Sleepy's expense.

Sleepy only hung his head and tried to act as if his feelings had been badly hurt.

”Dirty trick, after a fellow's worked hard all day, to go and lock him in and start for home without him. I'd have starved in there, I suppose,” he said gloomily, ”and no one would have cared.”

”I suppose you would,” laughed Ham, ”for you would be too lazy to cook you a meal after you found the food. We'll have to keep guard all the way home on Sleepy, fellows, or he'll fall into some ravine and go to sleep.

He worked so hard to-day, poor boy. I never did believe in this child labor business, anyway.”

The fellows took turn about riding the donkeys home, and a unique experience it was, for pack saddles are not the most comfortable seats in the world, especially for a tired boy. Ham gave practical demonstration until the others caught on, then he walked. They were all too tired to chat much, so just jogged along homeward, happy that another day's work was done on the cabin.

”A few more like this trip and we will be ready to entertain,” called Mr.

Dean.

CHAPTER XIII

Sleepy Smith has an Experience

Two weeks later another trip was made to the now-beloved cabin, but the party was small and, because of the lack of leaders.h.i.+p, the amount of constructive work done was not great. Enough logs were cut and dragged in to complete the addition, a new layer of fragrant boughs added to the aerial bunk, and the dam improved and strengthened. The rest of the day was spent in hunting squirrels and chipmunks and in investigating the immense valley above St. Mary's Falls. School was keeping the fellows very busy, and because the fall social life had begun the young men found spare time very scarce. The autumn activities in the Boys' Department were also in full swing, demanding their share of time and attention. The standing committee for the coming circus were already appointed, and were scratching their heads for new and novel stunts.

The O.F.F. were to present the afterconcert, and Fat was busy on the program. The fall gymnasium was being entered into with great zest, and already there had been a call for basket ball. The Bible study groups were getting together for the winter, the new Cabinet had been elected, so that, someway, there was not a great deal of time left for the cabin.

Mr. Allen and a few picked fellows had made a trip the week before, primarily to take up a supply of food for the mason and his helper, and had gotten the entire frame of the addition up, ready to roof and s.h.i.+ngle.

The next week another small group went up to roof the addition and close it in so as to keep out the snow, if, perchance, it might come before they were able to finish the improvements. They found the fireplace completed, crude but artistic, of jagged boulders with an immense cement hearth. The iron crane had been built in, and now hung lazily in the big fire-box.

Next came the cutting of the aspen poles for the floor of the addition.

They had hoped to get at least one layer of boughs on the great bed so that the next time a larger crowd could be accommodated, but the long autumn shadows warned them that twilight was approaching long before they started it, so consequently they had to go back without seeing that task accomplished. The curtains had been put on the windows, white oilcloth had been tacked on the board tables, and a mirror, if you please, was hung over the tin wash basin just inside the door. Hooks made of crooked branches were fastened upon the logs on which to hang coats and haversacks. The place had really undergone a genuine transformation.

”Well,” said Ham, as he took a long drink from the bucket of fresh water that stood on the kitchen table, ”that's the best water that ever flowed down a mountain side. There's life and health in every s.h.i.+ning drop of it. To tell you the real truth, fellows, I'm beginning to feel mightily at home here in this little shack. Shack! that doesn't sound right, though, does it? What are we going to call this place, anyway, Mr. Allen?