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CHAPTER XV
AT ABE BLOWER'S HOME
The boys saw at once that something was wrong. Mrs. Carmody was completely bewildered, and being old, had no easy time of it to collect her wits.
"Do you feel faint?" asked Dave, kindly. "Can I get you a glass of water?"
"No, I'll be all right in a minute. But this beats all, it sure does!" replied the old lady. "Abe wrote that he was going off with a Roger Morr to look for a lost mine, and here you are lookin' for Abe. It sure is a puzzle."
"He wrote that he was going off with me?" ejaculated the senator's son.
"He said Roger Morr. If that's your handle——"
"It certainly is."
"This must be Link Merwell's work!" cried Dave. "Perhaps he met Blower——"
"And impersonated Roger," finished Phil.
"Would he do that?" questioned the senator's son. "Would he dare?"
"He would, if he thought he could get away with the trick," replied Dave. He turned to Mrs. Carmody. "Would you mind letting us see the letter Mr. Blower sent you?"
"Sure. I'll get it. I left it on the table," was the answer, and, getting up, the old lady went into the house. "Come in," she invited. In her younger days she had been used to the rough life of a pioneer and she did not stand on ceremony.
The boys went in, and presently Mrs. Carmody brought forth a letter written in lead pencil on a half-sheet of note paper. It ran as follows:
"Dear Kate:
"You remember I tole you about Maurice Harrisons sister, who was married to a seanatour of the government. Well, his son, Roger Morr has come on to look for that lost mine—wants for me to go on a hunt with him to onse—so as it is good money I am going—start to nite in a hour—you git Nell Davis to stay with you her an Ben I wont be gone morn a weak or to. Abe."
"That's the letter Abe sent me yesterday," announced Mrs. Carmody. "You see he says Roger Morr, the son of the senator. If that's you, what does it mean?" and she looked at Roger.
"I'll tell you what it means," answered Dave. "It means that somebody else has pretended he is Roger here—an enemy who wants to locate the lost mine first, if he can."
"O dear! Did you ever hear the like! Who was it, do you suppose?"
"We've got a pretty good idea," said Roger. "Nobody you know. But tell me, where did this letter come from?"
"You mean who brought it?"
"Yes."
"Billy Lane."
"Who is he?"
"Oh, a feller around town, who does all sort o' odd jobs."
"Then you don't know where Mr. Blower was when he sent it?"
"No, I don't. But I guess he wasn't very near, otherwise he would have come here hisself, instead o' writin'—for writin' comes hard to Abe—he never had no chanct for much education. And he would want some o' his clothes."
The boys read the letter a second time. All were convinced that Link Merwell had gotten ahead of them and had perpetrated the fraud by impersonating Roger.
"It was certainly a bold stroke," was Phil's comment.
"Yes, and a clever one too, in a way," replied Dave. "From our talk in the summer-house Link must have learned that Blower and the late Mr. Harrison were warm friends, and, that being so, Blower would be willing to do almost anything for Mr. Harrison's nephew. And Link rushed Blower away in a hurry, so that we wouldn't get at him."
"I wonder if Haskers is with him?" mused Roger.
"I shouldn't wonder. If the mine is found, Link can't claim it, for he would be arrested on sight. But he could let Haskers claim it, and then turn it over to somebody else and thus mix it up, so that you would be out of it," answered Dave.
"What do you think I had best do next?" asked the senator's son. The unexpected turn of affairs had bewildered him almost as much as it had bewildered Mrs. Carmody.
"I don't see what you can do, Roger, excepting to start on a hunt for the Landslide Mine without Blower."
"Yes, let us do that!" cried Phil. "Who knows but that we'll run across Blower and Merwell? And if we do, we can easily prove that Link is a fraud."
"Well, we'll have to get some sort of a guide," answered Roger. "It would be utterly useless for us to start out alone in such a country as this."
"We might ask Mr. Dillon to recommend somebody," said Dave. "He appeared to be a reliable man."
The boys talked to Mrs. Carmody for a few minutes longer. They were on the point of leaving the house when there came a loud rap on the front door.
"Perhaps Blower has come back!" cried Phil.
"I don't think he'd knock," answered Dave.
"No, it isn't Abe," said Mrs. Carmody. "I'll go and see who it is."
She went to the door and opened it,—to find herself confronted by a tall, leathery-looking individual whose breath smelt strongly of liquor.
"Is Abe Blower home?" demanded the man, in a thick voice.
"No, he isn't," replied Mrs. Carmody, stiffly. She did not like the appearance of the visitor.
"When will he be home?" went on the man, and tried to force his way into the house.
"I don't know. You can't come in here, Sol Blugg!" And Mrs. Carmody tried to shut the door in the man's face.
"I am a-comin' in," stormed the newcomer. "I'm a-comin' in to wait fer Abe Blower, an' when I meet him—well, we'll have an account to settle," and the man lurched heavily against the door-frame.
"It's one of the fellows we met on the train!" whispered Phil. "The fellow called Sol Blugg!"
"Yes, and that other man, Larry Jaley, is waiting on the sidewalk for him," announced Dave, after a glance through a window. "And neither of them seem to be very sober."
"You get right out of here, Sol Blugg!" cried Mrs. Carmody, with sudden energy. "Abe ain't home, an' I won't have you hangin' around. You get right out!" And she caught up her broom, which chanced to be behind the door.
"Drop the broom, old woman!" snarled Sol Blugg, and it was plain to see that he was befuddled by liquor. "I'm a-comin' in, and you sha'n't stop me!"
He made a sudden grab and caught Mrs. Carmody by the arm. But as he did this, Dave leaped into the little hallway and shoved him back.
"Let go of this lady!" he said, sternly. "Let go, or I'll knock you down!"
Surprised and bewildered, Sol Blugg dropped his hold on Mrs. Carmody's arm and glared uncertainly at our hero.
"Who—who are you?" he faltered.
"Never mind who I am," replied Dave. "You let this lady alone and go about your business."
"I wanter see Abe Blower."
"He has gone away."
"Say, where have I seen you?" demanded the leathery-looking man, suddenly. "Oh, I remember now, on the train, comin' from the land sale. Say, was you there?"
"No."
"I know better! I saw you on the train—you an' them other fellers, too!" And Sol Blugg pointed unsteadily at Phil and Roger. "I know how it is," he went on, ramblingly. "You went there in place o' Abe—queered the hull thing fer us, you did! I know! You're in with Abe, an' Abe's in with you! Thought you'd do us out o' our little game, eh? Say, Larry!" he called to the man on the sidewalk. "Look at these three fellers—same ones was on the train last night. They are in with Abe—and they queered us—put a crimp in the hull game. Now they say Abe ain't here. Wot are we going to do, tell me that now, what are we goin' to do?"
"Them fellers!" exclaimed Larry Jaley, catching sight of the boys. "I remember 'em. Say, maybe they heard us talkin'!"
"Sure—they must have," mumbled Sol Blugg.
"Do you know these men?" asked Mrs. Carmody.
"We saw them on the train last night, that is all," answered Roger. "They said something about Mr. Blower queering a land deal for them."
"Yes, he told me about that, too. They were going to swindle some folks, and Abe heard about it and gave the thing away. Abe won't stand for anything that ain't strictly honest."
"Say, I want you to know——" commenced Sol Blugg, and tried to catch hold of Mrs. Carmody again
. But this time Dave was too quick for him. He pushed the man back, turned him around, and sent him flying down the steps to the street.
"Now, you go on!" he cried. "If you don't, you'll get into trouble!"
"That's what!" said Roger.
"Perhaps you'd like to be arrested," added Phil.
"Come on!" said Larry Jaley, in a low voice. "Come on, Sol. I told you it wouldn't do any good to come here."
"I didn't expect to see them young fellers," growled the leathery-looking man. "But I'm a-goin' to git square with Abe Blower, jest wait an' see," he added, thickly; and then he and his companion started up the street and around the first corner.
"The beasts!" murmured Mrs. Carmody, as she gazed after them. "I do wish I had used the broom over Sol Blugg's head! Maybe it would have done him good!"
"You know these men, then?" asked Dave.
"Oh, yes, and Abe knows 'em, too! It seems that, years ago, before I came here, Abe used to train with those men, in the mining camps. But they were a hard crowd, used to drinkin' and gamblin', and Abe gave 'em up and went with men like Mr. Harrison, and Tom Dillon. That made Sol Blugg and his crowd sore, and they often tried to do Abe harm. Now that Abe queered that land swindle for 'em I suppose they are more sore than ever. But I don't think they would have come here, only they have been drinkin'."
"You had better keep on the lookout—they may come back," said Dave.
"I'll keep on guard, don't fear. I've got one of Abe's pistols in the house, and a club, too. And I'll get that neighbor Abe spoke about to stay with me," returned Mrs. Carmody. "But, say," she added, suddenly. "You better keep on guard, too. 'Tain't no nice thing to run up against that bunch, I can tell you that!"
"Yes, we'll have to be on the watch from the very moment we leave this house," said Roger.
The boys talked for a few minutes longer with the old lady, getting what information they could, and then hurried back to their hotel. On the way they kept a sharp lookout for the leathery-looking man and his cronies, but they did not show themselves.
It was an easy matter for them to find old Mr. Dillon, who was reading a mining journal in the smoking-room. He listened with much interest to what they had to tell. As they felt they could trust such a man, they withheld nothing from him.
"It certainly is some game—this trying to locate that lost Landslide Mine," said the old miner. "I've been thinkin' it over again since you told me about it, and it interests me mightily. So you want somebody to go with you, and help you find the right trail, and find Abe Blower? Well, if you don't think I'm too old, I'll go myself!" And he smiled broadly at the boys.
* * *
CHAPTER XVI
ON TO BLACK CAT CAMP
"You go!" cried Dave.
"I thought you had given up prospecting," exclaimed Roger.
"Not but that we'd be glad to have you along," put in Phil, hastily.
"Well, I have given up prospecting," answered Mr. Dillon, with that broad smile still on his face. "But I like to go out once in a while, just for the sake of old times. Besides that, I was interested in the Landslide Mine myself in a way."
"How so?" asked the senator's son.
"Well, when Maurice Harrison staked the claim I came along and staked a claim a bit further up the trail. It wasn't near so good a prospect as was the Landslide, but it was pretty fair, and I was sorry to see that landslide come along an' knock us all out. So, if we find the lost Landslide Mine maybe we'll locate my mine, too."
"Come by all means, and welcome, Mr. Dillon!" cried Roger. "If you had that mine you speak about you must know as much about that district as Abe Blower—maybe more."
"I think I know as much, but not any more, lads. Abe is a good prospector, and he knows Montana from end to end, an' Idaho, too, as well as other gold fields. He has made money, too, but he allers spent the cash lookin' fer bigger things, while I salted a good bit o' mine away!" And Tom Dillon chuckled broadly.
The matter was talked over for the best part of an hour, and it was decided to begin the hunt for the Landslide Mine on the following morning.
"There ain't no ust bein' in too much o' a hurry," said Mr. Dillon. "That mine ain't goin' to walk away, and Abe Blower an' those with him ain't goin' to find it right plumb to onct, believe me! I guess the only reason those others hurried so was because they feared you would come along and queer their game with Abe."
"I think that myself," said Roger.
"Abe had a prospectin' outfit all ready—he allers has—up to Black Cat Camp. That's the startin'-point for the Rodman trail, on which the Landslide Mine an' my mine was located. Now we haven't any outfit, so we'll have to git one right here in Butte."
"We'll get whatever you say," answered Roger. "Of course, I don't want to make this too expensive," he added, thinking of something his father had told him—that just at present finances in the Morr family were not at their best.
"We can hire hosses—I know where to git just the right animals," said Tom Dillon. "And we won't pay no fortune for 'em either. And then you'll want some different clothes," and he looked critically at the well-dressed youths.
"Oh, we know that—we have roughed it before," returned Dave. And he mentioned their trip to Star Ranch, to Cave Island, and to the South Sea Islands, Norway, and other out-of-the-way places.
"Well, you sure have traveled some!" exclaimed Tom Dillon. "You'll do for this trip. I'm glad you know how to rough it. I onct had a bunch of tenderfeet along—young fellers from the East, who had never roughed it before—and, believe me, what those chaps didn't know would fill a boomer's wagon twict over. Why, they couldn't wash less'n they had a basin to do it in an' a towel to dry on, an' it mixed 'em all up to try to sleep on the ground rolled in a blanket. An' when it come to grub, well, they was a-lookin' for napkins an' bread-an'-butter plates, an' finger bowls, an' I don't know what all! It jest made me plumb tired, it sure did!" And the old miner sighed deeply.
"We won't give you any trouble that way," said Dave, with a grin. "Regular camp food is good enough for us, and I can sleep almost anywhere if I am tired enough."
"And you can't beat Dave riding," broke in Roger. "When he was at Star Ranch he busted the wildest bronco you ever saw."
"Is that so! Well, I don't like no wild broncos. I like a good, steady hoss, one as can climb the mountain trails and is sure-footed on the edge o' a cliff. That's the kind we'll git," concluded Tom Dillon.
The remainder of the day proved a busy one. The boys went out with the old miner to secure the horses and such an outfit as he deemed necessary. Then they spent part of the evening in writing letters to the folks in Yellowstone Park and at home. Only one letter came in for them—one from Senator Morr to his son—and this made Roger look very sober.
"No bad news, I hope," said Dave, kindly.
"It's about dad's private affairs," was the reply. "Things have taken something of a turn for the worse financially." Roger gave a sigh. "Oh, I do hope we can locate that lost mine!"
"We all hope that!" said Dave.
"Indeed, we do!" cried Phil. "We've just got to do it," he added, enthusiastically.
Now that he had made up his mind to undertake the expedition, old Tom Dillon brightened up wonderfully, and to the boys he appeared ten years younger than when they had first met him. He was a fatherly kind of a man, and the more they saw of him the better they liked him. He selected the outfit with care, securing five good horses—one for each of them and an extra animal for the camp stuff, and other things they were to take along.
In a place like Butte, where Tom Dillon was so well known, it soon became noised around that he was going on a prospecting tour. Some asked him where he was going, but he merely replied that he was going along with his young friends to show them the mining districts.
"It won't do to let 'em know we are going to look for a mine," he explained, in private. "If we did that, we'd have a crowd at our heels in no time."
The news concerning the expedition reached the ears of Sol Bl
ugg and his cronies, and this, coupled with the sudden departure of Abe Blower, set that crowd to wondering what was up.
"Maybe it's another gold strike," suggested Larry Jaley.
"It might be," said the fellow called Staver.
"If I thought it was a gold strike I'd follow 'em," announced Sol Blugg. "Tom Dillon allers was a good one at strikes, an' so was Abe Blower. They know enough to keep away from anything thet looks like a wildcat. I'm a-goin' to look into this," he concluded. And after that the Blugg crowd kept close watch on Dave and his friends.
The departure was made from Butte about noon of the next day. It was clear and warm, with a gentle breeze blowing from the west.
"We might have taken a train for the first forty miles," remarked Tom Dillon. "But it wouldn't have helped us a great deal, for we'd have to side-track for ten miles. We'll go the old way—the way we went afore there was any railroads."
"There must be a lot of mines in Montana," remarked Phil, as they rode out of Butte.
"Somebody told me there had been over fifteen thousand minin' claims staked and recorded," answered the old miner. "O' course, lots of 'em ain't never been developed. But a good many of 'em have."
"They must produce a lot of gold," said Dave.
"Yes, lad, the output runs up into the millions every year. Oh, a good mine is a bonanza!" added Tom Dillon, emphatically.
"Then I trust we locate the Landslide Mine, and that it proves a bonanza," returned Roger, eagerly.
On the way they passed mine after mine, and the boys were much interested in watching the process of getting out ore, and also in the work of the huge quartz-crushers. Whenever they passed a mine there would be sure to be somebody to wave a friendly hand to Tom Dillon.
"He certainly is well known," whispered Roger to Dave.
"Yes, and we were mighty lucky to fall in with him—after missing that Abe Blower," was the reply.
It was not until about five o'clock in the afternoon that they reached a small settlement known as Robby's. Here they rested and had supper. They inquired about Abe Blower and his party, but could find out nothing concerning them.
Dave Porter in the Gold Fields Page 10