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On and on they traveled, nevertheless, Hiram making inquiry at every camp. At last, thirty miles from Ragtown, he got word of the prospector. A camp freighter who traveled to the north for supplies from Demarest, Spruce & Tillou's Camp Number Three had seen such a man trudging along with his long staff, eyes bent on the ground, behind his six burros.
Over the top of this an enormous pair of ears protruded, and two big, solemn eyes were glued on us unblinkingly. It was only a wee wild burro, but what a large voice he owned! The thousand or more of these small gray and black animals are a heritage from the day of the prospector. Some of them are quite tame.
"We are going to," the prospector replied; "as soon as the new brick block is ready to open up. There's going to be manicure and hair-dressing parlors back of the millinery store. Lucile, Miss Lucile Purdy of Sedgewick-Wilson's, is coming over to run 'em both. She can do it, my, yes." "Now I can believe you have a self-respecting and wide-awake town," commented Mrs. Feversham.
The stranger was possibly a mile away when he discovered him, and he was coming straight down the flat of the valley. That he was not accompanied by a pack-horse surprised Keith, for he was bound out of the mountains and not in. Then it occurred to him that he might be a prospector whose supplies were exhausted, and that he was easing his journey by using his pack as a mount.
"Then comes a prospector who gets lost, and in hunting for water finds these same three buttes and the black, gold-specked rocks that are scattered about. But he wasn't bothering about gold just then, so he keeps on and in time finds the water hole at the foot of Smith Mountain. "He comes back to Los Angeles and tries to organize a company to go to ther three buttes.
"Guess you know right, too. Ther' ain't." It was curious to glance down at the double row of faces lining the table and note the perplexity which suddenly gathered on them. Bill saw it and enjoyed it. It suited his mood. Finally the heavy-faced prospector blurted out the question that was in everybody's mind, yet which the others dared not ask.
"It's quite a legend around here. The Lunch Rock mine, they call it, and Jim Banker, the prospector, looks for it every year." "But he ain't found it " A bell boy passed, singing out: "Call for Mad'mo'selle Dalbray! Call fer Mad'mo'selle Dalbray!" Mademoiselle rose and beckoned to him. "Three men in the lobby wish to see yuh, miss!" the boy told her. "Said Mr. Delonny sent 'em."
Yore a cussed nuisance sometimes, but yore a bully gang all th' same." Ewalt Draws Cards Tex Ewalt, cow-puncher, prospector, sometimes a rustler, but always a dude, rode from El Paso in deep disgust at his steady losses at faro and monte. The pecuniary side of these caused him no worry, for he was flush.
The Convener paused, still looking at the distant flowing hills. Then he turned to Shock and said solemnly, "We look to you to get them." Shock gasped. "To me! to get them!" "Yes, that's what we expect. Why! do you remember the old chap I told you about that old prospector who lives at Loon Lake? you will come across him, unless he has gone to the mountains.
"He has never been here, I suppose?" "Oh, no. Daddy never permits any white man to come, not even that old prospector." "But I am here," Reynolds reminded. "I know you are. But you came in a different way, you see. I believe you are the first white man who ever stayed this length of time here." "I would like to stay here forever," Reynolds fervently declared.
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