Two Boy Gold Miners: or, Lost in the Mountains

"They took it all?" asked Mr. Crosby.

"One man got the most of it."

"How?"

"Well, it was an old-time swindle, but I don't believe you'd understand if I told you. Such things aren't good for young people to hear about, anyhow. But I woke up one morning without a cent in my pocket, whereas the night before I had over five thousand dollars in pure gold."

"Five thousand dollars!" murmured Mr. Crosby, to whom such a sum seemed a large fortune.

"Yes. Oh, we didn't think much of that amount in the West. Money was easily made and easily spent there."

"Who got it?" asked Jed, leaning forward in his intense interest in the miner's curious story.

"One man got the most of it."

"Who was he?" inquired Will.

"He went by the name of Con Morton, but I guess he had half a dozen other titles he used whenever it was convenient. Yes, he got most of my fortune by a swindle, and then he lit out. I haven't seen him since. I wish I had. I think I could have made him give me back at least a part of it."

"Where was this?" asked Mrs. Crosby.

"Out in Nevada. Now, I'm afraid I've taken up too much of your time with my foolish story. But maybe it will be a lesson to the boys," and he looked at Jed and Will. "I don't suppose you'll ever go hunting gold, and gambling, but if you do, steer clear of any one by the name of Con Morton."

"I don't believe we'll ever get the chance to hunt gold, Mr. Harrison," replied Jed, "and we certainly won't gamble."

"Stranger things have happened – I mean about hunting gold – but I'm pretty sure if you do find any of the yellow lumps you won't be as foolish as I was, and let a swindler get them away from you. Well, I reckon I'd better be traveling along."

"Are you going to any place in particular?" asked Mr. Crosby.

"No. As I told your boys when I met them looking for the runaway horse, I'm just waiting for something to turn up. I may go back West again, or I may settle down in the East. I'm looking for a job, to tell you the truth. My money is 'most gone, and I need a little to keep me going, though I don't require much to live on."

"Then why don't you stay here?" asked the farmer. "I need a man to help me with the cultivating. I can't pay much – no farmer can these times – but I'll do the best I can. If I had a man to help with the cultivating I could stir the dirt up around the crops, and it wouldn't matter quite so much about the rain. Did you ever work on a farm?"

"Once, when I was a young lad. But if my corn keeps on hurting the way it does, I know we'll have rain."

"I hope so. But would you like to stay here a few days?"

"I think so. In fact, I will. I don't care so much about the money, but I like it here, and it will give me a chance to rest. Yes, Mr. Crosby, I'll stay and help you cultivate. Maybe it will rain, and I can then help you in other ways."

"Perhaps. Then if you'll come with me I'll show you a room you can use."

And so it was settled that the old miner should remain, for the time being, at the Crosby farm.

CHAPTER V

MORE HARD LUCK

That afternoon the two boys went back to the cornfield to resume the cultivating that had been interrupted by the runaway. It seemed hotter than ever, and there was scarcely a breath of wind.

"Whew! This is fierce!" exclaimed Will. "I can't stand it!" and he mopped the perspiration from his forehead.

"Oh, it might be worse," observed Jed.

"Worse? I don't see how."

"You might be out on the Nevada desert that Mr. Harrison was telling about."

"That's so. Well, I'm glad I'm not. But, what do you think of him, anyhow, Jed?"

"I think he's quite a character."

"So do I. I wish I had some of the gold he dug."

"Same here. If we had that we wouldn't have to be working in this hot cornfield. Maybe we'll find some, by and by, Will."

"Find some? How?"

"Why, go after it, to be sure. Do you know, I have an idea I'd like to be a gold miner."

"A heap you know about gold mining!"

"That's all right. Every one has to learn. I guess he didn't know anything about it at first," said the stout youth.

"Perhaps not. But what chance have we to go out West in the mining country?"

"None, I guess, Will, but I can't help thinking of it. I certainly would like to go West and be a gold miner. Think of digging gold instead of potatoes."

"There's only one thing about that," replied his brother, who was not so inclined to look on the rosy side of things, "when you're digging for potatoes you go to a field where potatoes have been planted, and when you dig, you know you're going to get some."

"Well?"

"Well, when you dig for gold you have to go it blind. It may be there and it may not. Oftener not, and you have all your digging for nothing."

"So you do here, sometimes, when the droutht or too much rain has ruined the potato crop," retorted Jed. "I guess it's about an even thing, Will."

"Maybe so. But I guess dad wouldn't let us go West."

"Probably not. Come on, we'll do ten more rows each, and then it will be time to go home to supper. My! But I'm glad this day will soon be over! It's been a scorcher!"

It had been very hot, and the unclouded sun, beating down on the two lads in the cornfield, seemed to fairly be trying to shrivel them up.

"I'm done!" exclaimed Jed at length, as he reached the end of the tenth row, which he had set as his "stent."

"So'm I," added his brother a minute later. "Come on, Pete. You're moving slow on account of the run you had this morning. Hark! What's that, Jed?"

"Sounded like thunder."

The two brothers listened a moment. Off in the west there was a dull rumble, where some copper-colored clouds had gathered.