Two Boy Gold Miners: or, Lost in the Mountains. Webster Frank V.
your hat. Horses will do almost anything for a bit of salt, and I guess you won't have any trouble catching him."
While he was speaking the old miner had put his bundle down on the ground, and opened it. The boys saw he had a regular outfit such as a man might use to camp out with along the road in the summer. There were some tin and sheet iron dishes and utensils, some food, and the head of a pickaxe.
"I can't get out of the habit of traveling just as I used to do when I was prospecting," said the man. "I don't have to ask any odds of anybody then, but it's not so easy packing this stuff on my back. I ought to have a mule or a pony, but I can't afford to. There, take this salt," and he gave Will some from a sack. "I guess that will fetch the horse."
Will put it in his hat, jumped the fence, and approached the animal, which ceased cropping the grass, and looked up as the boy entered the field. Probably old Pete was debating in his equine mind, if he had one, whether it was better to see what it was that Will had in his hat, or whether he would kick up his heels, and enjoy a little more freedom.
Meanwhile Jed, who had remained with the old miner, looked curiously at the bundle, which Mr. Harrison was tying up again.
"What's the pickaxe for?" inquired the boy.
"That's my old pick that I used when I was a miner."
"What are you carrying it with you for?"
"Because that's a lucky pickaxe. Many a hundred dollars' worth of gold has that pick dug for me. I broke the handle, and from then on I had bad luck. But I kept the pick, and some day I may put a new handle on it, and start to mining again."
"Where did you dig gold?" asked Jed, while a curious longing came into his heart to get away from the tiresome farm work and embark upon the free and fascinating life of a prospector. He knew little of such life, or, perhaps, he would not have desired to undertake it, for it is full of hardships and dangers, compared to which farming is easy and simple.
But the meeting that day of the old miner and the two boys was destined to have a far-reaching effect, and the head of the pick, which Gabe Harrison carried mainly for sentimental reasons, played quite a part in the adventures that were soon to follow.
"Where did I dig gold?" repeated Gabe, as he finished tying up his pack. "Well, young man – Jed, I mean, if you'll allow me to call you that – I've dug gold 'most every place there was gold to dig. I'm not particular that way. I've prospected all over the Western part of the United States, and I've even been in Alaska, where I nearly froze to death, but I got a lot of gold there."
"What made you give it up?" asked Jed, becoming more and more interested.
"I didn't. I had bad luck, though it was as much my fault as it was anything else."
"Did some one rob you?"
"Yes, but for the matter of that I gave them the chance. It was mostly my own fault. I'm my own worst enemy, my lad, but I think I've turned over a new leaf, and when Gabe Harrison does the foolish things he used to do, I hope you'll send him a special-delivery letter and tell him so."
"I will, if he leaves me his address," replied Jed, entering into the spirit of the occasion.
"I'll do that. There, your brother has caught the horse. I thought that salt would fetch the critter. I had a mule once – but that's a long while ago. Maybe I'll tell you about it some day."
Will had caught old Pete, and the horse was eagerly licking up the salt from the lad's hat.
"I'll open the bars for you," called Jed, hurrying forward to help his brother. "Is he hurt any?"
"Not a scratch on him."
"That's good. You'd better ride him home, so dad won't be worrying. I'll walk."
"You can ride if you want to," said Will, generously.
"No, you're lighter weight, and it's a hot day. Besides, Pete must be pretty well tired out. Look out he doesn't run away with you again."
"I will. Wish I had a bridle instead of this halter."
"Hold on. I've got one!" exclaimed Mr. Harrison. "It's one that belonged to my mule, but I lost the mule and you might as well take the bridle."
The old miner opened another part of his pack, and took out a strong bridle, that showed some signs of wear. It was quickly slipped on Pete, and then Will, mounting the animal's back, rode off.
"If you'll stop at our house on your way past," he called back to Mr. Harrison, "you can get your bridle."
"All right, I will. Might as well go that way as any other," the man added to Jed, as they started along the highway.
"Haven't you any particular place to go?"
"No, I'm just sort of waiting for something to turn up. I've about made up my mind to get back to the gold country. I heard of some new strikes they were making in Montana, and I've a sort of fever in my blood to get there."
With Jed asking questions, and the old miner giving in answer considerable information about the Western mining country, the two trudged along until they reached the Crosby farm.
"Won't you come in, and have some dinner?" asked Jed, as Will came out to the gate with the bridle. "It's 'most twelve o'clock, and you'll be very welcome. You did us quite a service in helping us to get the horse back. It would have meant a lot to dad to lose him."
"Oh, pshaw! I didn't do anything. But, if you don't mind, I'll sit down and have a bite. It's sort of lonesome, eating all alone beside the road."
"And you promised to tell me how you lost your gold that you dug," said Jed.
"Did I? Well, I don't remember that I did. Still, if you'd like to hear what a foolish man I was, I won't mind telling you."
CHAPTER IV
A CURIOUS STORY
While the old miner was standing at the gate, with the two brothers, Mr. Crosby came out of the house.
"Here is the man who helped us find Pete, father," said Will.
"I'm glad to meet you, sir," responded the farmer heartily, extending his hand. "Won't you come in?"
"I just invited him to dinner, dad," spoke Jed.
"That's right. Come in, Mr. – er – "
"Harrison, Gabriel Harrison, though my pardners and the boys used to call me Gabe. I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure, for your invitation."
"We don't often see strangers out this way," went on the farmer. "I understand you are a miner."
"I used to be, but I'm not much of anything now. I've been prospecting around here lately, looking for something to turn up, but it doesn't seem to be going to. Pretty dry around here, isn't it, Mr. Crosby?"
"Entirely too much so. I don't know what I'm going to do about my crops if we don't get rain soon."
Gabe Harrison looked up at the sky. The sun seemed to be blazing down as hot as ever. The old miner glanced to the various points of the compass. Then he leaned over and gravely felt of his left foot.
"What's the matter? Got a stone bruise?" asked Mr. Crosby.
"No, but I've got a very sensitive corn. It's as good as a barometer. It's beginning to hurt like all possessed, and I shouldn't be surprised if we had a rain storm soon. It always aches as it does now, just before a storm."
"Doesn't it bother you at other times?" asked Jed with a smile.
"Not at all. I think we're going to have rain."
"I certainly hope so," remarked Mr. Crosby. "But you'd better come in now. My wife and daughter have dinner all ready, and I know the women folks don't like to be kept waiting when everything's on the table."
"You're right there, stranger – I mean Mr. Crosby," said Gabe. "I'll come in. Can I wash up a bit? I've got considerable of the dirt of this county spread over my face and hands, only it isn't 'pay dirt.'"
"What's 'pay dirt'?" asked Will
"That, my boy, is what miners call dirt that has gold in it. Many a rocker full I've washed