Two Boy Gold Miners: or, Lost in the Mountains

"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 up. Sometimes I'd get a lot of the yellow dust, and, again I wouldn't make enough to buy my bacon. But it's all in the day's work."

Mr. Crosby led his rather queer guest to a shed, where in the summer time the male members of the family washed in preparation for their meals. Mr. Harrison gave himself a vigorous scrubbing with the yellow soap, and polished his face on the coarse towel until his countenance fairly shone. He was a well preserved old man, with a ruddy complexion, that showed through his coating of tan.

"Do you find gold mining pays?" asked Mr. Crosby, after the meal, when the gold-hunter had done full justice to the cooking of Mrs. Crosby and Nettie.

"Yes, about as well as anything – farming, for instance. I suppose your business has its ups and downs."

"Mostly downs. I declare, I never knew such hard times as we're having now! Not only me, but every farmer I know. This long dry spell is likely to have a bad effect on the country."

"I believe you. We miners don't have it all our own way, either."

"I thought you said you had dug plenty of gold," put in Jed, who, with his brother, was an interested listener.

"So I did. But digging it and keeping it are two different things, young man."

"Did you lose what you had?" asked Mr. Crosby, who had heard from his sons something of their guest's history.

"I lost it – yes – in a way. I might as well tell you the story. It's not a very pleasant one. It goes to show that a man can be a pretty big fool when he tries real hard. That's not a very nice thing to say, but it's the truth."

"How did it happen?" asked Will.

"Well, as I've told you, I've been a gold miner for a number of years. I've prospected, or looked for gold, in many places in this country. And I've found my share of yellow nuggets in my time.

"I made my last strike in Nevada. Where I was, nobody thought there was much but silver, but I was lucky enough to come upon a good gold lead, and the vein got bigger the farther I dug. Well, to make a long story short, I took out several thousand dollars in pure gold. Then I lost it."

"Couldn't you find it again?" asked Nettie, who, with her brothers, was eagerly listening to the miner's story.

"No, little miss, I couldn't, for I lost it by gambling."

"Gambling!" exclaimed Mr. Crosby, for he and his wife were strict church people, and did not know much about the vices of the world.

"That's the plain truth. Everybody out West gambles – that is, nearly everybody. There are some exceptions, of course, but I wasn't one. Very foolishly thought I could get something for nothing, and put up my money in a card game."

"And you lost?" inquired Mrs. Crosby.

"Every one but the man running the game loses sooner or later, ma'am," replied the miner. "It's run that way. I lost over a thousand dollars before I had sense enough to quit."

"Oh, then you stopped in time. I'm glad to hear that," said the farmer.

"No, I didn't. I stopped gambling, but I didn't get out of the company of the gamblers, as I should have done. I stayed right there, for I thought I knew it all. Ah, that's a true saying, that there's 'no fool like an old fool,' if you'll excuse me using such language, but I want you boys to take a lesson from me."

"Then how did you lose the rest of your fortune?" asked Jed.

"I was swindled out of it," replied Gabe Harrison. "It was partly my own fault, though. If I had had sense enough to keep away from the gamblers it wouldn't have happened. But one of them proposed a certain deal to me, and I went in with him. When it was all over I found I knew a great deal more than I did at first, but I hadn't any money left."