The Pike's Peak Rush Part 30

"You might try a pan from the riffles of the sluice, Mr. Greeley,"

suggested Mr. Byers.

"I will." Mr. Greeley promptly rolled up his sleeves, and settled his square hat more firmly on his head. "Let me have the pan, if you please." He carefully sc.r.a.ped the color from the pan and deposited it in a buckskin bag that he carried. "Where shall I take from?"

"Annywhere, annywhere, Your Honor," bade Pat.

"Why not about the middle, Mr. Greeley?" proposed Journalist Richardson.

"That would be fair."

"Let him alone, gintlemen," urged Pat. "Let His Honor do it all himself.

Come out, Terry, lad. Ye'll be gettin' in His Honor's way."

That was not one bit true, because Mr. Greeley would not be anywhere near Terry. However, Terry trudged out, to please the anxious Pat; and now Mr. Villard hailed him.

"Why--h.e.l.lo, Pike's Peak Limited! I thought that was you. Where's your partner, and how are you making it in the mines?" He shook heartily with Terry, in spite of the mud on Terry's clothes--not to speak of considerable on Terry's hand.

"Harry's up at the cabin. We're doing pretty well, thank you," answered Terry.

"Well, I should rather say you were, if you wash out two and three dollar pans! I was hoping to see you. Mr. Richardson has a message for you. Richardson, this is one of the partners in that Pike's Peak Limited outfit you've inquired about."

"Oh, yes." And Mr. Richardson, the Boston journalist, also shook hands with Terry. "Glad to meet you. Mr. Greeley and I pa.s.sed some people on our way out by stage. That is, they spent the night near us, at one of the stage stations. They asked us, if we saw the Pike's Peak Limited boys at the diggin's anywhere, to say they were coming. There were two families traveling together. One was Mr. and Mrs. Richards----"

"They're my father and mother!" exclaimed Terry.

"And the other was Mr. and Mrs. Stanton, and a boy and a little girl."

"I know 'em!" cried Terry, excited. "The boy's name is George and the girl's name is Virgie. The Stantons are near neighbors of my folks, in the Big Blue Valley. Are they near? When'll they get here?"

"Oh, they were some distance out yet," smiled Mr. Richardson. "But they had spanking good teams and were pus.h.i.+ng right through. They'll----"

"Ha, ha! Watch our old friend Horace! He acts like an expert," laughed Mr. Villard.

For Mr. Greeley, after having deliberately selected the packed dirt from several of the riffles at the middle of the sluice, was proceeding to wash his pan at the ditch.

"Why, His Honor might have been in the diggin's all his life!" praised Pat. "Sure, isn't he a Californy Forty-niner?"

Mr. Greeley was not so swift in his motions as a skilled prospector, but he evidently knew the correct method. He dipped, and tilted the pan, and twirled out the dirt and water; and peered, and dipped and twirled again.

Each time that he peered he seemed to be more interested, and his smooth, chubby face grew redder.

"Have you struck it rich, Mr. Greeley?"

"Upon my word!" And straightening, he returned with the pan held close under his nose. "Marvelous! If this is gold--and I judge that it is--these are very rich diggings indeed."

They all crowded forward to inspect the pan. The bottom of it was absolutely yellow!

"Hurrah for Mr. Greeley!" congratulated the other journalists, and hands patted him roundly on the back.

"Gold!" proclaimed Pat. "Faith, an' if 'tain't a twinty dollar pan I'll ate it. Wance I washed out siventeen dollars myself, but never a pan like that from mere a few riffles. Keep it, Your Honor. Would ye like to try ag'in?"

"Oh, no, no," declined Editor Greeley, considerably fl.u.s.tered as he painstakingly transferred the flakes and dust to his buckskin sack.

"This is proof enough. Now I have worked with my own hands and seen the results with my own eyes--I have the results in my very pocket! n.o.body can gainsay the richness of these new Western mines, and the truth shall be announced to the world as far as my paper can carry it." He smiled boyishly on Terry. "I beat you, my son, didn't I? Well, well!"

"This is one of the Pike's Peak Limited boys, Mr. Greeley," explained Journalist Richardson. "You remember a party of emigrants on the trail sent word by us to them, in case we ran across them at Cherry Creek or elsewhere."

"Yes, yes. That is so," and the great Horace Greeley extended his hand to Terry. "You must be Terry, then--the son of that Mr. and Mrs.

Richards in one of the wagons."

"Yes, sir," answered Terry, wondering how Mr. Greeley could remember.

"They're my father and mother. The other outfit lived on the next ranch to us in the Big Blue Valley."

"And they had another boy, and a little girl beside," said Mr. Greeley.

"That's good. I'm glad to see young blood entering this vast new country of the United States. When I return to New York I think I shall print as a motto: 'Go West, young man; go West.'"

After shaking hands again with Pat, the Horace Greeley party rode on up the gulch, for further investigations. Pat respectfully watched them; then he clapped on his battered hat and faced Terry with a droll wink.

"B' gorry, that was good wages for an hour's work. Oi'm thinkin' Mr.

Grayley'll be wis.h.i.+n' to sell his _Tribyune_ an' dig in the dirt along with the rest of us here."

"I should say!" agreed Terry. "Jiminy, this is awful rich ground! I didn't know there was so much gold in here, did you? We must have opened up a regular layer yesterday."

"Don't ye tell anybody," whispered Pat, "but Oi opened up me oyster-can a bit, an' sprinkled a few pinches jist to make the visit by His Honor the more interestin'. Sure," continued Pat, "ye wouldn't want a man like the great Horace Grayley to soil his hands for mere a dollar or two, would ye? An' it's all right. The same gold came out o' here in the first place, an' wance Oi tuk siventeen dollars an' fifty cents from a single pan, myself. He might have done as much without my help, if he'd struck the proper spot, an' I only made matters 'asy for him. Now he can print the news with an exclamation point. Well, let's clane up the sluice, an' give back to the oyster-can what's due it an' more besides."

CHAPTER XVI

TWO TENDERFEET ARRIVE

Word was spread through the Gulch for a ma.s.s-meeting this evening to listen to a speech by Horace Greeley; but of far more importance, in Terry's mind, was the news that his father and mother and the Stantons were on the Pike's Peak trail! Yes, sir; coming! They must have cut loose sooner than expected. But when would they arrive at Cherry Creek?

Mr. Richardson had not said; still, he had said that they were well equipped and were "pus.h.i.+ng right along." They could not have arrived yet, of course; the Greeley stage had got in only two or three days ago, and the stage coaches traveled mostly at a gallop and fast trot so as to cover fifty miles a day, including stops for dinner and sleep. The best teams could cover only twenty miles a day. Anyway, they were coming, and he was wild to tell Harry--and Shep.

So as soon as he might knock off work on the Casey claim he bustled to the cabin, and unloaded the news.

He and Harry united in a war dance. Shep barked. "That," quoth Harry, when they had quieted down again, "is a joke on us." He rubbed his long nose and surveyed Terry quizzically. "Which of us will wear the clean s.h.i.+rt, to receive them in?"

"Dunno," grinned Terry. "But if they don't get here pretty quick there won't be any extra s.h.i.+rt. And one of your boots is plumb gone, already!"

"I know it," admitted Harry. "I'll have to make moccasins. But we can't get clothes till we pay our debt."

"No, sir!" agreed Terry. "We'll have to get that hundred dollars ahead, first." For upon this they were determined.

"We sure will," confirmed Harry. "We wrote that we were rich with a gold mine, and told your father the hundred dollars would be waiting here for him, and a lot more besides! Huh!"

"They think we're rolling in wealth," a.s.serted Terry. "Now they'll laugh."