Part 42 (1/2)

”Them flapjacks made Abe a good friend,” observed Tom Dillon, while eating. ”They was the means o' introducing Maurice Harrison to him.

Ain't that so, Abe?” And the old miner grinned broadly.

”Right you are!” was the ready reply. ”We was in the mountains together, and Maurice didn't have nuthin' to eat. I made him some o' my flapjacks an' then we became pardners fer nigh on to a year. Thet was up at tudder end o' the State,” explained Abe Blower.

By the time breakfast was over and the horses had been cared for, the rain had stopped and the sun was breaking through the eastern sky. All in the camp lost no time in changing their wet garments for dry. The soaked clothing was then hung up around the fire and on the rocks in the sun.

”You want to be careful how you climb around this mornin',” warned Tom Dillon. ”Some o' the places is mighty slippery. You don't want to slide over no rocks into a hollow an' git killed!”

”No, indeed!” replied Roger, earnestly.

It was not until the middle of the afternoon that they took up the hunt for the lost mine once more. This time the three boys went off together, Abe Blower advising them not to separate while the rocky slopes were so wet.

”You keep together an' me an' Tom will do the same thing,” he said.

”Then, if anything happens to anybody, the others can help.”

For over two hours the boys hunted around, making their way along a ledge of rocks below the point where they had hunted before.

”From the description left by Uncle Maurice, that mine was pretty deep,”

said Roger. ”And if it was, maybe we'll be more apt to find an opening to it from below rather than from above.”

”Well, it won't do any harm to look around here, anyway,” returned Dave.

They had to proceed with great care, for in spots the water was still running over the rocks and the footing was very slippery. They had a rope with them and all took hold of this, Dave being in front, Phil coming next, and Roger bringing up the rear.

”It's not such an easy job as I thought it would be,” panted Phil, after they had made an unusually difficult turn of the ledge. ”It kind of takes the wind out of a fellow!”

”Let us rest a bit,” suggested Dave. ”We can't go much further along the ledge anyway,” he added, looking ahead.

They had reached a point where the outcropping of rocks had split in twain, forming the ledge they were on and another ledge twenty or thirty feet away. Between the two ledges was a hollow with jagged rocks far below. The other ledge wound around another hill, leading to the northwest.

”This certainly is a wild country,” said Roger, as the boys seated themselves on the inner side of the ledge. ”Hunting for gold and silver in a place like this is certainly not easy. Think of spending month after month among rocks like these, looking for 'pay dirt' or 'pay rock,' as they call it!”

”And yet it just suited your uncle,” returned Dave, ”and it suits Abe Blower and Mr. Dillon.”

The boys relapsed into silence, glad of the rest. Dave was thinking of his father, and of the folks who had gone into Yellowstone Park, when suddenly he felt his sleeve pulled by Roger.

”Look!” whispered the senator's son. ”Don't make any noise, either of you!”

He had pulled Phil's sleeve also, and now he motioned for his chums to crouch down behind the rocks on which they had been sitting, stones that lay loosely on the ledge, close to the towering cliff.

As the three lads slipped down behind the loose stones on which they had been resting, all gazed in the direction Roger pointed out. On the other ledge several persons had appeared.

”Link Merwell!” gasped Phil. ”And see, that Sol Blugg is with him!”

”And here comes Job Haskers and the man called Larry Jaley!” said Dave, in reply.

”Wonder where that other fellow, Staver, is?” murmured Roger.