Dave Porter in the Gold Fields Part 18

It was about three o'clock when Roger and Phil came in. As my old readers know, the senator's son and Dave's sister were on unusually good terms with each other, and the greeting between them was very cordial.

"But I don't like you for one thing, Roger," said Laura, half reproachfully. "I don't like this idea of Dave going off to look for that lost mine."

"Oh, we won't be away from you long, Laura."

"And the danger--not only to Dave but to--to you," went on the girl, and gave him a look that meant much.

"We'll be careful," answered the senator's son. "But I hate awfully to worry you," he added, in a lower tone.

For Phil, Laura had some good news, which was to the effect that Belle Endicott, the daughter of the owner of Star Ranch, where the young folks had spent such an enjoyable summer, had written that she would join the party at Livingston, for the trip through Yellowstone Park. Phil had always admired Belle, she was so das.h.i.+ng and so full of fun, and the news was just to his liking.

"We'll have the best times ever!" he cried. "That is, after Dave and Roger and Shadow and I get back from locating that lost mine!"

"You talk as if it was going to be the easiest thing in the world to locate the Landslide Mine!" laughed Roger. "I think it is going to be hard work--and we may not get a trace of it."

"Did you bring those papers and that map?" questioned Dave.

"I did."

"Let us go over them now," cried Phil. But this was not to be, for there were other things to attend to just then, and the girls demanded a good share of the boys' attention.

The following morning found the three youths in a summer-house attached to the Wadsworth estate. This was located down near a tiny brook and was overgrown with vines and bushes. It was a cozy retreat, especially on such a hot day in July, and the boys proceeded to make themselves at home by throwing off their coats and caps.

"Now let us get down to business on this thing," said Dave; whereupon the senator's son brought forth his papers, and the map of the mining district wherein the Landslide Mine was supposed to be located.

"That lost mine is supposed to be somewhere along this old trail," said Roger, pointing with his finger. "This trail is known as the Rodman Trail, because a fellow named Billy Rodman discovered it. As near as I can make out, the papers say the mine was on this Rodman Trail, half a mile north of Stony Cut and to the west of the Four Rocks."

"Huh! That ought to be dead easy to locate," was Phil's comment. "All we have to do is to walk along the trail half a mile beyond Stony Cut and then to the west of the Four Rocks,--and there you are."

"Exactly, except for two things," replied Roger. "The landslide wiped out Stony Cut and the Four Rocks, too."

"Oh!"

"But some one must have some idea where Stony Cut was located," said Dave.

"My idea is to hunt up that old miner, Abe Blower, and see if he can't locate Stony Cut for us, even approximately, and tell us something about Four Rocks--how it used to look before the great landslide. Then, after we've got that information, we'll start on the hunt."

"Do you think we'll find Abe Blower in b.u.t.te, Montana?" asked Phil.

"More than likely. He was there some time ago, mother heard. He and Uncle Maurice used to be great chums."

"And are you sure the mine is valuable?" queried Phil, after a pause.

"It must be, otherwise my uncle wouldn't have been so anxious about it."

Again the boys went over the papers and also the map, talking the proposed trip over from various points of view. They all agreed that locating the lost mine would be no easy task.

"Supposing somebody else locates it?" said Phil, presently. "Couldn't he lay claim to it?"

"I don't know about that--I suppose so, since the mine is now completely lost."

"I hope you can find this Abe Blower and get him to go with us," said Dave. "An old prospector like that ought to know that territory well."

"Blower does know it--so they say."

"Did you ever meet him?" questioned Phil.

"No, I never even heard of him until Uncle Maurice died and left his property to mother."

"Then you don't know what kind of a man he is?"

"Oh, he must be pretty nice, or my uncle wouldn't have had him for a friend. I've no doubt that he is rough--many of that sort are--but I feel certain----"

Roger stopped short, as a strange cras.h.i.+ng in some bushes back of the summer-house reached his ears and the ears of the others.

"What's that?" cried Dave. "Some animal?"

"Hi, what are you doing there?" came, in the voice of the Wadsworth gardener. "Come here, I want to talk to you!"

"Somebody is in those bushes!" exclaimed Roger, and ran from the summer-house, followed by his chums.

They were just in time to find Joseph, the new gardener, running after a young fellow who was making his way through an apple orchard on the other side of the brook. Joseph was somewhat stout and not quick of foot, and the young fellow easily outdistanced him, leaped the orchard fence, and hurried down the back road.

"Who was it, Joseph?" demanded Dave, when the gardener came up, all out of breath.

"I--don't--know--sir!" gasped the man, puffing for breath.

"He--was--hiding--in the bushes back of--the--summer-house."

"Hiding here!" cried Dave. He looked at his chums. "Can it have been Merwell?" he murmured.

"Would he dare come here?" asked Phil.

"He dared to come to Crumville, after he knew there was a warrant out for his arrest."

"How did that fellow look?" questioned Roger.

"I didn't see his face, sir," answered the gardener, who had now recovered somewhat. "He had on a soft hat and a brown, baggy suit."

"That's the way Merwell was togged out, so Laura said!" cried Dave.

"Fellows, it must have been Link! Now what do you know about that!"

"Do you think he heard what we said?" asked Roger, much disturbed.

"He must have, if he was hiding in those bushes," answered Phil.

"Wonder how long he was there?"

None of the boys could answer that question, nor could the gardener enlighten them. Joseph had been coming along the side of the orchard when he had espied the fellow and had called to him, thinking it was some boy from Crumville who had sneaked up to steal some of the orchard fruit. He had been surprised when the fellow dashed away so quickly.