"There's Dave!" cried Jessie Wadsworth, as she caught sight of him through a car window.
"Hello, everybody!" cried the youth, as he swung himself from the car steps. He gave Jessie's hand a tight squeeze and then kissed his sister. "How are you?"
"Oh, fine!" came from both girls.
"Hello, Davy!" cried a merry voice, and Dunston Porter, the lad's uncle, came striding forward from an automobile near by. "How did you leave Senator Morr and his family, and are you ready for that trip through Yellowstone Park?"
"I left the senator and his family well," was the answer. "And I am ready for the trip—that is—part of the trip," Dave added, hastily.
"Part of the trip?" cried Jessie. "Why, what do you mean?"
"I'll tell you later. Oh, I've got lots and lots to tell," went on Dave, with a smile. He caught Laura and Jessie by the arms. "See Nat Poole over yonder?" he whispered. "Well, you want to be nice to Nat after this, for he is going to reform."
"Reform?" queried his sister.
"Really?" added Jessie.
"That's what he told me. We had quite a talk on the train. I'll tell you about it later. And I've got a lot more to tell," Dave went on. "All about a lost gold mine that belongs to Mrs. Morr, Roger's mother."
"A lost gold mine!" exclaimed Dunston Porter. "Is this a joke, Dave?"
"No, sir, it's the truth. The strangest tale you ever heard. When we go out to Yellowstone Park we—that is, us boys—are going to look for the mine."
"Of all things!" burst out Laura. "Say, Dave, will you ever settle down? Here I thought you were going to take a nice little personally-conducted tour with us, and you talk of going land knows where to look for a lost gold mine!"
"Is it very far?" asked Jessie, and her face showed some disappointment.
"Oh, it's not very far from Yellowstone Park," answered the youth. "It's in Montana, and you know a corner of the Park is in that State."
All had walked toward the automobile, which Mr. Porter had been running. The girls got in the tonneau and Dave climbed into the front seat beside his uncle. Just as they were about to start, Nat Poole walked past, suit-case in hand, and tipped his hat politely. Both girls smiled and bowed and Mr. Porter nodded. Then the touring-car rolled off in the direction of the big Wadsworth mansion, where, as I have before stated, the Porters resided with the jeweler's family and old Caspar Potts.
As they passed through the main street of Crumville—now built up a great deal more than when Dave had first known it—many persons bowed and smiled to all in the car. Everybody knew the Porters and liked them, and the fact that Dave had once been an inmate of the local poor-house was almost forgotten.
To the youth himself the ride was full of interest. As he sat back in the comfortable seat of the automobile he could not help but think of the many changes that had taken place since he had been found wandering along the railroad tracks, alone and hungry. He had found a father, an uncle, and a sister, and he had made many warm friends, including Jessie Wadsworth, to him the dearest girl in all the world. Certainly he had much to be grateful for,—and he was grateful from the bottom of his heart.
A few minutes of riding, after leaving the center of the town, brought them within sight of the Wadsworth residence, a fine mansion set back from the roadway, with beautiful trees and shrubbery surrounding it. Down at the great gateway stood Professor Potts, now white-haired and somewhat bent, but with a kindly smile of welcome on his face. Dave waved his hat and the old gentleman bowed with old-fashioned courtesy. Then the touring-car swept up to the broad front piazza and Mrs. Wadsworth showed herself.
"Home again, are you, Dave," she said, pleasantly. "I am glad to see you." And then she allowed him to kiss her. There had been a time when Dave had been somewhat afraid of this stately lady of society, but that time was past now, and Mrs. Wadsworth looked on Dave almost as a son,—indeed, it had been this affection for the youth which had caused the two families to live under the same roof.
Dave was soon up in his room, putting away his things and getting ready for dinner, which would be served in half an hour. He was almost ready to go below when he saw Caspar Potts pass through the hallway.
"Well, Professor, how have you been?" he asked, pleasantly.
"Very well, David, very well," was the somewhat slow reply. "It is a very pleasant life here, very pleasant!" And the eyes of the old college professor glistened.
"Got the library in shape now, I suppose?" went on Dave, for he knew that was the old gentleman's hobby.
"Yes, David, we have every book and pamphlet catalogued. And I am adding something new," continued the professor. "I am getting the autographs of many of the writers and pasting them on the fly-leaves. And where a writer dies and I get a printed obituary notice I paste that in the back of the book. I think it adds something to a volume to know about the writer and to have his or her autograph."
"Fine, Professor!" cried Dave, and tapped him on the shoulder. "My, but it is nice here! Much better than the old farm, eh, and the poor-house that I came from!"
The old gentleman nodded several times, and the tears stood in his eyes.
"Yes! yes! It is very, very nice. I have found real friends, and I am thankful, very thankful!" And he continued on his way down the hall, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief.
On the stairs Dave met Jessie. She was in a fresh dress of white, and had a rose in her hair.
"How pretty you look!" he whispered, as he took her arm. "Just like a—a picture!" And then Jessie blushed and that made her look prettier than ever, if such a thing were possible.
Dave's father and Mr. Wadsworth had come in, and both were glad to see the boy back. Soon dinner was announced, and all sat down to the long table, Dave between his sister and Jessie. It was old Professor Potts who asked grace; and then some rapid-fire conversation followed, the girls and the others demanding to know all about what had happened at Senator Morr's home, and about the lost mine.
"It certainly sounds like a romance!" declared Dave's father, referring to the lost mine.
"But I have heard of such things before," answered his brother. "I know of several valuable mines in South America that were lost through earthquakes. Landslides have not only buried mines, they have buried cities as well."
"Oh, Dave, supposing you went to look for that mine and there was another landslide!" gasped Jessie, and turned pale.
"That's a risk we'd have to run," was his answer. "But I'd be very careful as to where I went, Jessie."
"I don't know about this," put in Mr. David Porter, with a grave shake of his head. "Better take the trip through Yellowstone Park, Dave, and let the Landslide Mine slide," and he smiled, faintly.
"Oh, I promised Roger that I'd go with him,—and Phil is going, too!" pleaded Dave. "We'll be very careful."
"I might go with you myself, only I think I ought to stay with the party to go through the Park," said Dunston Porter.
"Yes, we want you with us!" cried Laura.
"I don't like this at all!" pouted Jessie, and looked somewhat reproachfully at Dave.
"Oh, you mustn't take it that way!" cried the youth. "Why, we'll be with you on the trip to the Park, and then we'll join you on the tour a little later. You are to stay at least four weeks, remember. Well, if we spent two or even three weeks looking for that mine we'd still have a week in the Park—and one can go through in six days, so the circular says."
After that the talk became general, Dave learning more concerning the tour and who from Crumville and vicinity had signed to go, and the others asking for the details concerning the mine, and about the doings of Job Haskers and Link Merwell.
"You steer clear of that rascally teacher and young Merwell," advised Dave's father. "They are a bad lot."
"I'll steer clear if I can," answered Dave. "But if I catch them in any wrongdoing and I can manage it, I am going to have both of them arrested."
"I'd not blame you for that."
After the meal Dave spent a pleasant evening
with Laura and Jessie. The three young folks went out on the porch and there, a little later, Ben Basswood joined them. All talked about the trip to Yellowstone Park, and about the Landslide Mine.
"I'd like to go after that mine myself," said Ben. "But I know I can't do it, for I promised mother and my Aunt Kate that I'd stay with them all through the trip."
"Then you'll have to stay with Laura and Jessie, too," returned Dave. "I'll leave them in your care while I am away."
"Oh, Dave, as if Uncle Dunston wasn't going along!" cried his sister.
"Well, you can't have too many protectors, in such a wild portion of our country," and Dave laughed, for he knew as well as did all of them that the trip through Yellowstone Park is a perfectly safe one.
By and by Ben walked around the garden with Laura, while Dave took Jessie. It was moonlight and perhaps some sentimental things were said. Anyway, when Dave and Jessie came back he held her arm and both looked very contented. Then Ben had to go, and Dave walked down to the gateway with him and spoke about Nat Poole.
"Well, if he reforms he's a good one," was all Ben said. He and Nat had been on the outs for a long while.
"He'll do it," answered Dave. "At least, I hope so."
* * *
CHAPTER XI
OVERHEARD IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE
"Dave, what do you think! I saw Link Merwell this morning!"
It was Laura who spoke, as she burst into her brother's room, where the youth was looking over the things he expected to take with him on his trip West.
"You saw Link Merwell!" cried Dave, dropping some collars he held in his hand. "Where?"
"Down on Main Street, near the post-office."
"Did he speak to you?"
"Oh, no, the minute he noticed that I saw him he hurried out of sight around the corner. I followed to the corner, but when I got there he had gone."
"Was Job Haskers with him?"
"I didn't see him."
"Humph! This is interesting, to say the least," mused Dave. He thought of what Nat Poole had told him, and of what Merwell and Haskers had attempted at the Morr homestead. "I'll have to look into this," he added, aloud.
"Oh, Dave, do you think he'll try to do something more round here—or at the jewelry works?"
"I'll warn Mr. Wadsworth, Laura, and he can notify the police. But it's queer Merwell should show himself, knowing there is a warrant out for his arrest. Weren't you mistaken?"
"I don't think so. Of course he had on a slouch hat, drawn down over his eyes, and an unusual suit of clothing, but I am pretty certain it was Merwell."
"Then Haskers must be here, too. They travel together." Dave heaved a sigh. "It's too bad! I wish they were in China, or at the North Pole!"
It was two days after Dave's arrival at Crumville and most of the time had been spent in getting ready for the trip to Montana. Roger and Phil were coming to the house that afternoon, and Dave had received a telegram from Shadow Hamilton that he would accompany the tourists as far as Yellowstone Park. The other lads were unable to make the necessary arrangements.
It was lunch time and Dave lost no time in going to Mr. Wadsworth, who had just come in from his jewelry works. Both of them, accompanied by Dave's father, went into the library to talk the matter over, so that Jessie and her mother might not be disturbed.
"I'll see the police about this," said Mr. Wadsworth, when he had heard about Merwell. "If possible, we must place this young scamp where that fellow Jasniff is, behind the bars."
"I wish they could arrest Haskers, too," sighed Dave.
"I don't see how we can—we have no charge against him," answered the manufacturer.
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 dashing 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 Butte, 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 crashing 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.
"Maybe he wasn't alone," suggested Roger. "Let us take a look around."
Dave Porter in the Gold Fields Page 7