"No, thank you," the man repeated; "there's nothing we want."

Frank saw that at present he could do nothing; but he had little doubt that the two men were really suffering severely. Still he understood and respected their pride, and with a friendly "Good evening," strolled off to his own hut.

The next evening he again went round to the solitary workman.

"How is your mate?" he asked.

The man shook his head. "He's pretty bad."

The tone was softer and less repellent than that which he had used the evening before. He was a young man of not more than three or four and twenty, and Frank saw that his lip quivered as he turned away from him and dug his shovel into the ground.

"If your mate is worse," Frank said, "you have no right to refuse my offer. I cannot help feeling that you are doing badly; in that case, why should you not let me lend you a hand? There's no disgrace in being unlucky. Here men are unlucky one week, and make a rich strike on the week following, and then they can lend a hand to others, just as a hand may have been lent to them when they wanted it. I think by your accent that you are an Englishman, and an educated one, just as I am myself. Why on earth don't you let me be a friend to you?"

The man did not reply; but Frank could guess by the random way in which he was doing his work, that a struggle was going on.

"He would not hear of it," he said at last.

"Then don't let him hear of it," Frank said promptly. "If he has any mistaken ideas about taking help from a stranger, the sort of ideas one would naturally have at home, and is ill and wants something, we must help him in spite of himself. If, as I suspect, he needs other matters as well as medicine, you should provide him, even if it be necessary to carry out a little harmless deception."

"I would not tell him a lie," the man said, almost fiercely.

"No, there's no occasion for that," Frank went on. "You can tell him that you have come across that nugget in the claim," and Frank tossed into the hole a nugget for which he had half an hour before given a digger ten dollars from his own store.

For a moment the man stood irresolute, and then burst into a passion of tears. Frank saw that he had gained the day, and saying, "I will come round for a chat to-morrow afternoon. That's my camp up there—that tent just on the ridge. I have really medicines, if you think they will be of any use," strolled away to his supper. He glanced round when he had gone a little distance, and saw the digger running at full speed towards the solitary tent.

The next evening the young man dropped his shovel as he approached him, and came to meet him.

"I did not thank you last night," he began.

"Nonsense," Frank said, interrupting; "there is no occasion whatever for thanks. Why, it's the custom here, whenever any one is taken ill, or is unfortunate, and has to move on, a few friends, or, as it often happens, a few strangers, will each chip in a pinch of gold dust to help him on. It's the rule here that we stand by each other, and being both Englishmen, it is natural we should lend each other a hand. How is your mate?"

"He is a good deal better, thanks to the food I was able to get for him; for, as you guessed, we have been nearly starving the last fortnight."

"But why did you keep on working at such a place as this?" Frank asked. "Why didn't you go on wages? There are plenty of men here who would be glad to take on an extra hand if they could get him."

The young man hesitated.

"I know it must seem utter folly," he said at last, "but the fact is my partner has a fixed idea that claim will turn out well; he dreamt it."

"Pooh!" Frank said; "diggers are constantly dreaming about lucky places—and no wonder, when they are always thinking about them. I consider it madness to keep on toiling here, even if your mate is ill. It is folly to give in to him in this way, and for you both to be half-starved when you can earn, at any rate, enough to keep you both by working for others."

"That is just what I knew you would say," the young man replied, "and I feel it myself, thoroughly."

"Then why on earth do you keep on doing it?"

"I have a reason, a very particular reason, though I am not at liberty to explain it."

"Well, then, there's no more to be said," Frank replied, vexed at what he regarded as obstinate folly. He talked for a few minutes, and then strolled away, and for the next two days did not go near the digger who seemed so bent on slaving uselessly.

The third day Frank noticed that the man was not at work on his claim. As soon as he knocked off in the evening he walked across to the spot. The tools still lay in the hole, showing that the claim had not been abandoned, although work had temporarily ceased.

Next day the claim was still unworked; the tent stood in its place, showing that the diggers had not moved away. Although, from their previous conversation, Frank thought that he might not improbably meet with a repulse, after work was done he strolled over to the tent.

"Are you in, mate?" he asked, outside. "Seeing you were not at work for the last two days, I thought I would walk over and ask you if anything was the matter."

The young man came out from the tent; he looked utterly worn-out.

"My father has been too ill for me to leave him," he said, in a low tone. "I spoke of him as my mate before, but he is my father."

"Can I do anything?" Frank asked.

"No, thank you; I don't think any one can do anything. If there were a doctor in camp, of course I should call him in; but I don't think it would be of any use. He's broken down, altogether broken down. We don't want for anything, thanks to your kindness."

"You look worn-out yourself," Frank said.

"I suppose I do. I have not lain down for the past five days."

"Then," Frank said, "I insist on taking your place to-night. Is he sensible?"

The young man shook his head.

"Sometimes, for a little while, I think he knows where he is, but most of the time he lies perfectly still, or just talks to himself.

"Very well, then," Frank said, "he will not know the difference. Besides, you can lie down in the tent, and I can wake you at once if there is any occasion."

The man hesitated; but he was too worn-out to resist, and he made no opposition as Frank entered the tent. An elderly man lay stretched upon some blankets, one of which was thrown loosely over him. Frank stooped and put his fingers on his wrist. He could scarcely feel the pulse.

"What have you been giving him?"

"I got a piece of fresh meat and boiled it down into broth."

"Have you given him any stimulants? I think he wants keeping up."

"He never touches them," the young man said.

"All the better," Frank replied; "they will have all the more effect upon him as medicine. If you will wait here a few minutes, I will go up to my tent and fetch down a blanket and a few things. I will be with you in ten minutes."

Frank briefly announced to his comrades that he was going to sit up for the night with a sick man. He put a bottle containing a glass or two of brandy in his pocket, and went into a store and purchased some lemons and a piece of fresh beef; this he took back to the camp fire, and asked Abe to put it on and let it simmer all night in the ashes, in just enough water to cover it, and then to strain it in the morning, and bring the broth across to what was known in the camp as the "lonely tent." He took a small phial of laudanum and quinine from the store of medicines, to use if they might appear likely to be needed, and then went back to the tent.

"Now," he said to the young man, "you lie down at once. If you are wanted I will be sure and wake you. I shall make myself comfortable, never fear; one of my mates will bring me down a pannikin of tea the last thing."

He squeezed one of the lemons into a tin drinking-cup, and added water and a few spoonfuls of brandy, and, with a spoon he had brought down with him, poured some of it between the old man's lips.

"I don't know whether it's right," he thought to himself, "but it's the best thing I can do for him. It is evident he must be kept up. When Abe comes down I will ask his advice; after knocking about as many years as he has been, he ought to know what is the best thing to be done."

In half an hour he gave the patient a few spoonfuls of the broth which had been prepared, and continued every half-hour to give him the lemonade and broth alternately.

When Abe came down with the tea Frank went outside to meet him, and explained some of the circumstances of the case, and then took him in to see his patient.



"I think you are doing the right thing, lad," Abe said, when they went out into the air again. "He is evidently pretty nigh gone under. I expect he has been working beyond his strength, and starving, like enough, at that. He's regular broke up, and has got the fever besides. I should just keep on at that till morning, and then we shall see; if he gets on raving you might give him a few drops of laudanum with his brandy, but I wouldn't do it otherwise. I will bring down that broth first thing in the morning, it will be a sight stronger than that stuff you are giving him now."

Fortified by this opinion, Frank lit his pipe, and sat down to his long watch. He was the more satisfied that he was doing right by the fact that the pulse was distinctly stronger than it had been when he first felt it. Occasionally the patient muttered a few words, but he generally lay perfectly still, with his eyes staring wide open. It was this fixed stare that tempted Frank at last to give him a few drops of laudanum, and in an hour later he had the satisfaction of seeing him close his eyes.

Abe was round soon after daylight, with two pannikins of tea, some rashers of bacon, and a jug of the essence of beef.

"How is your patient, Frank?"

"I can't tell, except by his pulse; but that certainly seems to me to be stronger. I gave him a few drops of laudanum a couple of hours ago, and it seems to me he has been dozing since; at any rate his eyes have been half-closed. I think that it is extreme weakness more than anything else; he has overtaxed his strength, and is worn-out with fatigue and starvation. I shouldn't be surprised if he gets round all right with quiet and food." The opening of the tent, and the sound of voices outside, roused the younger digger, who had slept without stirring from the moment he had lain down. He joined the others outside.

"How I have slept!" he said. "I can't tell you how much I am obliged to you; I was regularly done up, and now I shall be able to take a fresh start again."

"My partner, Abe, here, has just brought us down some tea and breakfast, and some really strong soup for your mate." For Frank did not know whether the young man would wish the fact of the relationship between him and his companion generally known.

"Thank you, heartily," the young man said, as he seated himself by the side of Frank, on the stump of a felled tree, and took the tea and food from Abe's hands.

"I feel ready to go on again now; but last night I quite broke down. I have no one to speak to, you see, and it was awful to see him lying there, and to be able to do nothing. Your friend here," and he nodded to Frank, "had been so kind to us a week ago, that I felt sure he would not mind sitting up with him, though I know he thought me a fool to go on digging at that wretched hole. I think he looks "—and he motioned to the tent—"a little better this morning. Of course there's not much change; but his face does not look quite as it did yesterday. I don't know what the difference is, but I am sure there is a difference."

"His pulse is certainly a little stronger," Frank said, "and I hope we shall pull him round, though I did not think so when I saw him yesterday. I have been giving him broth every hour, and a few spoonfuls of lemonade with brandy in it between times, and I think the brandy has done him more good than the soup; if I were in your place, I would go on doing just the same to-day. This soup Abe has brought down is very strong, and two or three spoonfuls at a time will be all he will want; there is another lemon in there, and I would go on giving him brandy too; I think it's just strength he wants."

"Strength and hope," the young man said. "He has all along made up his mind that claim would pay, and I think its failure did more to break him down than even the fatigue and want of food; that was why I kept on working as long as he was sensible. He still believed in it, and would not hear of my stopping to nurse him. He was very bad that night I went home with the nugget, almost as bad as he was last night; but when I showed it him he seemed to revive, and it was only when three days passed without my being able to show another spec of gold that he fell back again."

"Oh! you did find a nugget, then?" Abe said. "No one thought you would strike on anything thar."

"I found it because your friend put it there," the young man said, "and he saved both our lives, for we were starving."

Abe grunted.

"You shouldn't have kept it so dark, lad. We ain't bad fellows, we diggers, though we are a rough lot, and no one need starve in a mining camp. But no doubt you had your reasons," he added, seeing the miner's face blush up. "But what on arth made your mate stick to that thar hole? Any one could have seen with half an eye that it wasn't a likely place."

"He has a sort of belief in dreams, and he dreamt three times, as he told me, of a stunted tree with gold underneath it. We have been to half the mining camps in the country, and never had any luck; but directly he came here he saw a tree standing just where our claim is, and he declared it was the one he dreamt of. I told him then it didn't seem a likely place to work, but he would have it that it was the tree, and that there was gold under it. He was already weak and ill, and to please him I set to work there. I may tell you, as I have told your friend, that he is my father; there is no reason that there should be any mystery about it, and my only reason for wishing that it should not be generally known is that he had a sort of fancy against it."

"I guessed as much, young man," Abe said, "when I saw you working together three weeks ago. A young man don't tie himself to an old partner who ain't no more good than a child at work unless there's some reason for it, and there's many a father and son, aye, and a father and four or five sons, working together in every mining camp here. Still, if the old man has a fancy agin it we will say nought on the subject. So he dreamt three times of the tree, did he? Well, then, I don't blame him for sticking to the claim; I don't suppose there are a dozen miners in this camp who wouldn't have done the same. I believes there's something in dreams myself; most of us do. And he recognised the tree directly, you say? Wall, it's time for my mate and I to be off to work, but this evening I will walk round and have a look at your claim; thar may be somewhat in it, arter all."

"You don't really believe in dreams, Abe?" Frank said, as they walked off together.

"I think thar's something in 'em," Abe said. "I have heard many a queer story about dreams, and I reckon thar ain't many men as has lived out all thar lives in the plains as doubts thar's something in 'em. The Injins believe in 'em, and, though they ain't got no books to larn 'em, the Injins ain't fools in their own way. I have known a score of cases where dreams came true."

"Yes, I dare say you have," Frank said; "but then there are tens of thousands of cases in which dreams don't come true. A man dreams, for instance, that his wife, or his mother, or some one he cares for, is dead; when he gets home he finds her all right, and never thinks any more about the dream, or says anything about it. If in one case out of ten thousand he finds she is dead, he tells every one about his dream, and it is quoted all about as an instance that dreams come true."

"Yes, perhaps there's something in that," Abe agreed. "But I think there's more than that too. I know a case of a chap who was out in the plains hunting for a caravan on its way down to Santa Fe. There weren't, as far as he knew, any Injins about, and what thar was had always shown themselves friendly and peaceable. He laid down by the fire and went to sleep, and he dreamed that a party of Injins scalped him. He woke in a regular sweat from fright, and he was so badly scared that he scattered the ashes of his fire and took to his horse, and led him into a cedar bush close by. He hadn't been thar twenty minutes when he heard tramping of horses, and along came a party of Injins. They halted not twenty yards away from where his fire had been, and camped till the morning, and then rode on again. He could see by thar dress and paint they were up to mischief, and the very next day they fell upon a small caravan and killed every soul. Now that man's dream saved his life; thar warn't no doubt about that. If he hadn't had warning, and had time to scatter his fire, and move quiet into the bush, and get a blanket over his horse's head to prevent it snorting, it would have been all up with him; and I could tell you a dozen tales like that."

"I think that could be accounted for," Frank said. "The man perhaps was sleeping with his ear on the ground, and in his sleep may have heard the tramping of the Indians' horses as they went over a bit of stony ground, long before he could hear them when he arose to his feet, and the noise set his brain at work, and he dreamt the dream you have told me. But I know from what I have heard that gold-miners are, almost to a man, full of fancies and superstitions, and that they will often take up claims from some idea of luck rather than from their experience and knowledge of ground."

After the work was over Abe and Frank went down to the claim.

"Well, I am free to own," Abe said, "that I don't see no chance of gold here; it's clear out of the course of the stream."

Frank was silent for two or three minutes, and then said:—

"Well, Abe, you know I put no faith whatever in a dream, but if you look at that sharp curve in the opposite bank higher up, you will see that it is quite possible that in the days when this was a river instead of being a mere stream, it struck that curve and came over by where we are standing now. As the water decreased it would naturally find its way down the middle of the valley, as it does now; but I think it likely enough that in the old times it flowed under where we are standing."

"By gosh, lad, I think you are about right. What do you say to our taking up the claims next to this? We are not doing much more than paying our way where we are, and it's the horses who are really earning the money."

"I don't know, Abe. We are a good deal above the present bed of the stream, and should probably have to sink a considerable distance before we got down to paying ground; that young fellow said they have hardly found a speck of gold. It would be a risky thing to do; still, we can think it over, there's no hurry about it."

That night Abe insisted on taking his turn to sit up with the old man. The son, who had now told them that his name was James Adams, urged that the previous night's long sleep had quite set him up again, but Abe would not listen to him.

"It's done you good, lad, no doubt, but ye will be all the better for another. It wants more than one night's sleep when you have had four or five out of bed, and a night's watch is nothing one way or other to me. You just do as you are told."

So James Adams had another long night's sleep, while Abe sat by his father.

There was no doubt now that the old man was recovering from the exhaustion which had brought him to death's door; the set, pinched look of his features was passing away, and the evening following Abe's watch, when Frank went round to the tent to inquire how he was getting on, the son came out and said—

"He is better. He went off this morning in what looked like a natural sleep, and when he woke, an hour ago, I could see that he knew me. I don't suppose he knew he had been lying insensible for a week, but thought I had just come back from work. He whispered, 'How does it look to-day, Jim?' and after what you told me about what you thought about the old course of the river, I was able to say honestly, 'I think the chances look more favourable.' He whispered, 'We shall make a fortune yet, Jim,' and then drank some soup and went off to sleep again. Tomorrow morning I will set to work again. I don't believe a bit in the dream myself, but it will make him more comfortable to know that I am at work upon it; and after all it may turn out some good."

"My partners have more faith in it than I have," Frank said. "Abe told them about the dream, and about what I had noticed of the probable course of the river in the olden times, and I have a proposal to make to you. We will take up five claims by the side of your two, two on one side and three on the other; then three of us will help you sink your shaft. All that's found in your claims will be yours; and if it turns out rich you shall pay us just as if we had been working for you by the day. When we have cleared out your claims we are to have the right of using your shaft for working right and left along the bottom over our claims. I think that's a fair offer."

"I think it's more than fair; it is most kind," the young man said. "You are risking getting nothing for your labour if it turns out poor."

"Yes, we are risking that," Frank agreed, "but we are not doing ourselves much good now. The two who are working the horses earn enough to keep the five of us, and if by any chance your claims should turn out well, we shall be paid for our work for you, and will be able to work out our own claims very cheaply; if we sunk a shaft on our own account we should similarly lose our labour if it turned out poor, and should not get so much if it turned out rich. So I think the bargain is really a fair one; and if you do not agree, my mates have quite resolved to sink a shaft on their own account on the strength of your father's dream."

"In that case I agree most heartily," James Adams said, "and it will gladden my father's heart to be told that the work is now to go on really in earnest."

"If he is better to-morrow," Frank said, "it will be as well to get your father's consent to the agreement, and then we will begin on the following day."

The next morning the old man woke up a good deal better. His first question, after he had taken some soup, was—

"How is it you aren't at work, Jim? It's broad daylight."

"I have knocked off for to-day, father, I wanted to have a chat with you. A party of five miners, who have been very kind to me while you have been ill—for you have been ill now for more than a week, though you don't know it—have made me a very good offer, although I could not accept it until I consulted you. You see I cannot get on much with the claim by myself; the ground falls in and wants timbering, and I can do nothing alone. Well these miners have offered to help sink our shaft, on the conditions that they get no pay if it turns out poor, but if it turns out well they are to be paid for their daily labour, and when we have worked out our claims they are to have the right of using our shaft for working out the claims they have staked out next to ours."

"No shares, Jim," the old man said; "you are sure they are not to have any share in our claims, because I won't agree to that."

"No, father; the agreement is just as I told you. If it turns out well they get their wages and the right to use our shaft to get at their claims."

"Very well, I will agree to that; we shall get down all the sooner to our gold. But mind, have it put down on paper, else they will be setting up a claim to a share in our treasure."

"I will get it done regularly, father," Jim said. "They mean very fairly. As I told you, they have shown me the greatest kindness—indeed you owe your life to them, for if it had not been for them, I had, as you know, no means whatever of holding on. Whilst you have been ill two of them have been sitting up with you at night. They have showed themselves true friends."

"Well, I am glad you have found some friends, Jim," the old man said feebly. "But you must be careful, you know, very careful, and be sure the agreement is signed and witnessed properly."



CHAPTER XVIII.

A DREAM VERIFIED.

ON the following morning, to the astonishment of the miners of Cedar Camp, Frank and his companions took their tools out of their claims and shifted to the claims of the two men of the "solitary tent." Every one asked himself what could be the meaning of this move, and the general supposition was that they must have discovered that the two men had struck upon rich ground. Scores of miners sauntered across during the day, looked on, and asked a question or two; but the answers they obtained threw no light upon the mystery. The ground looked most unpromising; it was a flat some ten feet above the level of the river-bed, and the spot where they were digging was twenty yards from the edge.

Fifteen yards further back the ground rose abruptly to a height of thirty or forty feet; the ground around was covered with bushes, through which a few good-sized trees rose. The two men had dug through two feet of alluvial soil, and about five feet of sand. Altogether, it was a place which seemed to afford no promise whatever; and although, at the first impulse, some miners who were doing badly had marked out claims next to those staked out by Frank and his party, no steps were taken to occupy them.

The first day was spent in getting out planks and lining the proposed shaft, which was made much smaller than the hole already dug, which extended over the whole of the two claims. The next day a windlass was put in position, and the work began in earnest. At the depth of twenty feet they came upon gravel, a result which greatly raised their spirits, as its character was precisely similar to that in the bed of the stream, and showed that Frank's conjecture was a correct one, and that the river had at one time flowed along the foot of the high ground beyond.

When it was known in camp that the party were getting up gravel, there was a great deal of talk. Some of the older hands came and examined the place, and, noticing the sharp curve in the opposite bank above, concluded, as Frank had done, that instead of being, as was generally supposed, beyond the edge of the old river-bed, it was by no means improbable that the party were working over what was at one time a point which was swept by the main body of water coming down.

More claims were staked out, and although no one had any intention of beginning in earnest until they discovered what luck attended the party who were sinking the shaft, just enough was done each day to retain possession of the claims. Before they had gone far into the gravel they discovered specks of gold, and, washing a basinful from time to time, found that it was fairly rich, certainly as good as any that had been found a few feet below the surface of the ground at any other spot in the camp. They determined, however, not to wash at present, but to pile the stuff near the mouth of the shaft, to be washed subsequently, and to continue to sink steadily.

A fortnight after the work had begun, the old man had gained sufficient strength to make his way across to the shaft, and after that he spent his whole time watching the progress of the work. His tent was brought over and pitched close at hand. By this time, as their prospects really looked good, Jim had told him the true history of the nugget he had brought home, and how much they owed to Frank; and he so far overcame his shrinking from intercourse with his neighbours, as to become really cordial with Frank, who, when supper was over, often strolled across and smoked a pipe with Jim in the tent.

Frank often wondered what could have brought a man of some sixty years of age, and evidently well educated, and a gentleman, but, as was equally clear, wholly unfitted by age, habits, and constitution for rough labour in such a country as that. The son had not denied that he was English, but as he had not admitted it in so many words, Frank thought that his father might object to any questions on the subject, and in their many conversations the past was seldom alluded to.

Turk, who was Frank's constant companion, took remarkably to the old man, and in the daytime, when the latter was sitting watching the baskets coming up from below, generally took up his position by him, sometimes lying blinking lazily in the sun, at other times sitting up and watching the operations gravely, as if he were thoroughly aware of their importance.

While the ground was still unpromising, Frank and his party had bought up, for a few dollars, the claims of several of the men who had staked out ground next to their own, and now held six on either side of the claim they were sinking on. Beyond these, as soon as the gravel was known to contain gold, other miners began to work—for the most part in parties, as the depth at which paying ground lay beneath the surface was so great that it could only be reached by joint labour—and the flat so long neglected now became one of the busiest points in the camp.

"The gravel is getting richer and richer every day," Frank said to the elder Adams, five weeks after they began work. "I think now it would be as well to hire half a dozen men to carry it down to the stream and wash it there; you could superintend them, and one of us will work at the cradle. The stuff will pay splendidly now, I am sure, and there's a big heap on the bank."

"If you think so, by all means let us do so," the old man said. "I should like to begin to get some gold; we are in your debt more than a hundred dollars already, since you have been advancing money for our living as the work has gone on."

"There is no hurry on that account," Frank said. "Ever since we washed the first pail of gravel it has been evident that there was at least sufficient gold to pay for washing out, and that my advances were perfectly safe; so there is no hurry on that account. But at present it has so improved that it would be rich enough to pay really well; besides, we shall be getting it stolen. I fancy last night two or three buckets-full were taken away at that edge of the bank; and as there has been a perfect rush for staking out claims to-day, I have no doubt that it was found to pan out very rich."

The result of the first day's washing more than realised their anticipations, for when the cradle was cleared up over fifty ounces of gold were found at the bottom; and at the end of three days the old man paid Frank and his party their wages at four dollars a day each from the time they had commenced working at the shaft.

Another fortnight and they reached the bed rock. Each day the find had become heavier, but the climax was reached when they touched the rock. It was found that just where they reached the bottom, the rock which formed the bank bordering the flat came down almost perpendicularly to the level rock which had formed the old bed of the stream. This was worn perfectly smooth by the action of the water, and in the bed rock was a great caldron scooped out by an eddy of the stream. This was filled up with gravel, among which nuggets of gold were lying thickly; and when its contents were taken to the surface and separated, the gold was found to weigh over three thousand ounces. The lower part of the ground was then dug out to the full size of the claim, and when all this was washed it was found that the total amount of gold obtained from the claim was over six thousand ounces.

As the work went on from day to day, Frank observed a gradual change coming over the elder of the two men. At first he had been excited, and at times irritable; but as each day showed increased returns, and it became a moral certainty that the claim was going to turn out extremely rich, the excitement seemed to pass away. He talked less, and spent less of his time in watching the work going on, sometimes not even coming down to watch the clear-up at the end of the day's work. Even the discovery of the rich pocket in the rock scarcely seemed to stir him. His son, upon the contrary, made no secret of his satisfaction at the fortune which was falling to them. He shook off the reserve which had at first distinguished him; a weight of care seemed to fall from his shoulders, and his spirits became at times almost exuberant.

At first he had looked to Frank almost a middle-aged man, although his face and figure showed that he could not be many years his own senior; now he looked almost like a schoolboy, so full was he of life and spirits. The old man had taken much to Frank, and although during the latter part of the time he had talked but little, he liked him to come into the tent every evening to smoke a pipe and chat with his son. He had several times endeavoured to draw from Frank his reason for leaving England and coming out to California at an age when many lads are still at school; but he had obtained no reply to his hints, for Frank did not care to enter upon the story of that incident at Westminster.

The evening when the claims had been worked out, and the last cradle washed out, the old man asked Frank to bring Abe and his companions to the tent after they had had their supper. The tent showed little signs of the altered circumstances of its owners; a few more articles of cheap crockery and a couple of folding chairs were the only additions that had been made. Some boxes had been brought in now to serve as seats, and on one in the centre were placed half a dozen bottles of champagne, which the young man proceeded to open.

"My friends," the elder said, "I am going away to-morrow, and I trust that your claims will turn out every bit as rich as ours has done."

"Even if they don't turn out as rich," Frank said, "there is no fear of their not turning out well. We consider we have made a capital bargain with you; we have been paid by you for our work in sinking the shaft, and now it will be easy for us to work our claims. It was a lucky day for us when we made that contract to sink your shaft."

"I am glad you think so, and very glad that you are likely to share my luck; still, I feel greatly indebted to you. It was a bargain, of course, but it was a bargain in which you were taking all the risk. There is, as you say, every probability of your claims turning out well; but there's no certainty in gold-mining, and at any rate we cannot go away with a fortune without feeling that, to some small extent at least, you will participate in it. Therefore I here hand you over each a bag with a hundred ounces of gold, so that, come what may, your time and labour here will not have been thrown away. You will not, I hope, pain me by refusing," he said, seeing that the men looked doubtfully at each other. "We owe it all to you, for when you threw in your lot with us we were desperate and starving."

"Wall, if you put it in that way, I don't see that we can say no, mate," Abe said, "though we are well content with our look-out, I can tell you, and could get a biggish sum for our claims to-night if we were disposed to sell them. Still, what you says is true, though it isn't every one who makes a good thing out of a bargain as is ready to go beyond it. It was a fortunate day for you may be that you fell in with my mate here, and it was a fortunate day for us when he fell in with you. When I goes back east and settles down on a farm I has got my eyes on, I shall always say as I owed my luck to my mate strolling over to talk to the two men as was working what seemed a hopeless claim in Cedar Camp.

"Wall, I suppose you are going back with your pile to the old country. I can only say as we wish you good luck thar, and plenty of enjoyment out of your money. Here's luck."

The miners all emptied their glasses, and then, shaking hands with father and son, filed out of the tent. Frank was about to follow them when he was stopped by a gesture from the old man. He had not liked accepting the present, but he did not wish to act differently from his comrades, and he saw that his refusal would really hurt the donor.

"Sit down a bit, lad," he said; "James is going to the camp to get a few things for our journey to-morrow, and I shall be alone, and now that it's all over I feel the reaction. It has been an exciting time the last month."

"It has indeed," Frank agreed, "and I have often thought to myself what a comfort it was that they had established a regular way of sending down gold twice a week with an escort; it would have been terrible if you had had to keep all that gold by you."

"Yes, I often thought so myself, and your offer to keep the gold in your tent on the days when the escort wasn't going was a great relief to me."

"It was safe enough with us," Frank said. "No one would venture to try a tent with a pretty strong party; but with only your son and yourself there might have been a temptation to some broken-down gambler to carry it off. Besides, we have Turk as a guard, and I don't fancy any one would venture to try any tricks with our tent while he is inside it."

"Well, I hope it will be your turn now," the old man said, "and that before another two months are over you too will be setting out on your way home with what your friend called your pile."

"I shall not be doing that," Frank said; "whatever we find, I have no thought of going back to England."

"No? Well, lad, I don't want your confidence if you would rather not give it; but I will tell you my story, and perhaps when you have heard it you may be the more inclined to tell me yours. It is a painful story to tell, but that is part of my punishment; and you, lad, have a right to hear it, for I know that it is to you I owe my life, and that it is through you that I am to-morrow going home to do all that I can to retrieve my fault, and to wipe out the stain on my name. I was a solicitor, with a good practice, in a town of the west of England,—it does not matter what it's name was. I lost my wife, and then, like a fool, I took to drink. No one knew it except my son, for I never went out in the evening, but would sit at home drinking by myself till I could scarce stagger up to bed.

"He did all that he could to persuade me to give it up, but it had got too strong a hold upon me. At last we quarrelled over it, and he left the house, and henceforth we only met at the office. He was engaged to be married to the daughter of our Vicar. When the crash came—for in these cases a crash is sure to come sooner or later—the business had fallen off, and a bill was presented for payment which I had altogether forgotten I had signed. Then there was an investigation into my affairs. I could help but little, for there were but few hours in the day now when my brain was clear enough to attend to any business whatever. Then it was found that ten thousand pounds which had been given me to invest by one of my clients had never been invested, and that it was gone with the rest.

"I had not intended to do anything dishonest, that even now I can affirm. I had intended to invest it, but in my muddled state put off doing so, and had gone on paying the interest as if it had been invested as ordered. When I knew that I had not enough in the bank to replace it, I went into foolish speculations to regain what I had lost; but until the crash came I had never fairly realised that I had not only ruined myself but was a swindler. I shall never forget the morning when James, who had been up all night going through my papers with my head-clerk, came down and told me what he had discovered. I was still stupid from what I had drunk overnight, but that sobered me. I need not tell you what passed between my son and me. I swore never to touch liquor again. He sold out of consols five thousand pounds which he had inherited from his mother, and handed it over to the man I had defrauded, giving him his personal bond that he would repay the rest of the money, should he live; and on those terms my client agreed to abstain from prosecuting me, and to maintain an absolute silence as to the affair.

"Then Jim broke off his engagement, and took passages for us in a sailing ship for Panama, and so on to San Francisco. I need not tell you the struggle it was to keep to my promise; but when Jim had given up everything for me, the least I could do was to fight hard for his sake. My thoughts were always fixed on California, my only hopes that I might live to see the rest of the debt repaid, and the boy's money replaced, so that he could buy a business and marry the woman he loved. I dreamt of it over and over again, and, as I told you, three times I dreamt of the exact spot where we are now sitting.

"Somehow, in my dreams, I knew that if I dug straight down under the old tree that formed the centre of the dream I should find gold. This became a fixed idea with me, and when we reached the gold-fields I never stopped long in camp, so bent was I upon finding the tree of my dreams. Jim bore with me wonderfully. I knew he did not believe in my dream, but he was always ready to go where I wanted. I think now he thought that I was going out of my mind, or feared that if he thwarted me I might take to drink again. However, at last we found the tree—at least I was positive it was the tree of my dreams. James tried to dissuade me from digging in a place which looked so unpromising; but nothing would deter me save death, and you see the result. We shall go back; the debt will be cleared off, Jim will marry his sweetheart, and I shall live with him to the end of my days. He is a grand fellow is Jim, though I dare say it didn't strike you so when you first knew him."

"He is a grand fellow," Frank agreed heartily, "and I am truly glad, Mr. Adams, that all has turned out so well."

"And now, can you tell me something of yourself, Frank? It is to you we owe it that things have turned out well; and if, as I rather guess, you have got into some scrape at home, I can only say that my son and myself will be very glad to share our fortune with you, and to take one-third of it each."

"I thank you greatly, sir, for your generous offer, but it would be of no use to me. I have, as you suspect, got into a scrape at home, but it is from no fault of my own. I have been wrongfully suspected of committing a crime; and until that charge is in some way or other cleared up, and the slur on my name wiped off, I would not return to England if I had a hundred thousand pounds."

"And can nothing be done? Would it be any use whatever to set to work on any line you can suggest? I would make it my own business, and follow up any clue you could give me."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Adams; thank you with all my heart: but nothing can be done, there is nothing to follow. It was not a question of a crime so committed that many outside persons would be interested in it, or that it could be explained in a variety of ways. So far as the case went it was absolutely conclusive, so conclusive that I myself, knowing that I was innocent, could see no flaw in the evidence against myself, nor for months afterwards could I perceive any possible explanation save in my own guilt. Since then I have seen that there is an alternative. It is one so painful to contemplate that I do not allow myself to think of it, nor does it seem to me that even were I myself upon the spot, with all the detective force of England to aid me, I could succeed in proving that alternative to be the true one except by the confession of the person in question.

"If he were capable of planning and carrying out the scheme which brought about my disgrace, he certainly is not one who would under any conceivable circumstances confess what he has done. Therefore, there is nothing whatever to be done in the matter. Years and years hence, if I make a fortune out here, I may go home and say to those whose esteem and affection I have lost, 'I have no more evidence now than I had when I left England to support my simple declaration that I was innocent, but at least I have nothing to gain by lying now. I have made a fortune, and would not touch one penny of the inheritance which would once have been mine. I simply come before you again solemnly to declare that I was innocent, wholly and conclusively as appearances were against me.' It may be that the word of a prosperous man will be believed though that of a disgraced schoolboy was more than doubted."

"And is there no one to whom I could carry the assurance of your innocence?" Mr. Adams asked. "Some one may still be believing in you in spite of appearances. It might gladden some one's heart were I to bear them from your lips this fresh assurance; were I to tell them how you have saved me when all hope seemed lost; were I to tell them how all here speak well of you, and how absolutely I am convinced that some hideous mistake must have been made."

Frank sat for some time silent.

"Yes," he said, at last. "I have a little cousin, a girl, she was like my sister; I hope—I think that, in spite of everything, she may still have believed me innocent. Will you see her and tell her you have seen me? Say no more until you see by her manner whether she believes me to be a rascal or not. If she does, give her no clue to the part of the world where you have come across me; simply say that I wished her to know that I was alive and well. If you see that she still, in spite of everything, believes that I am innocent, then tell her that I affirm on my honour and word that I am innocent, though I see no way whatever of ever proving it; that I do not wish her to tell my uncle she heard from me; that I do not wish her to say one word to him, for that, much as I value his affection, I would not for the world seem to be trying to regain the place he thinks I have forfeited, until I can appear before him as a rich man whom nothing could induce to touch one penny of his money, and who values only his good-will and esteem. That is her name and address."

And Frank wrote on the leaf of his pocket-book, "Alice Hardy, 354 Eaton Square."

"I do not think you will have to deliver the message; it is hardly possible that she should not, as my uncle has done, believe me to be guilty. Still, I do cling to the possibility of it. That is why I hesitate in giving you the commission, for if it fails I shall lose my last pleasant thought of home. If you find she has believed in me, write to me at Sacramento, to the care of Woolfe & Company, of whom I always get my stores. There is no saying where I may be in four or five months' time, for it will take that before I can hear from you. It may be, in that case, she too will write. If she does not believe in me, do not write at all; I shall understand your silence; and, above all, unless you find she believes in me, say no more than that I am alive and well, and give no clue whatever to the part of the world where we have met."

"I will discharge your commission," Mr. Adams said. "But do not be impatient for an answer; I may not find a steamer going down to Panama for some time, and may have to go thence to New York, and thence take a steamer to Europe. I may find on my arrival that the young lady is absent from home, perhaps travelling with her father, and there may be delays."

"My uncle is not her father," Frank said; "she is a ward of his. But I will not be impatient; not for six months will I give up such hope as I have."

"There is one more thing before I say good night," Mr. Adams said. "I have been in great need, and know how hard it is to struggle when luck is against one, and I should like to give a small sum as a sort of thank-offering for the success which has attended me. In a mining camp there must be many whom a little might enable to tide on until luck turns. Will you be my almoner? Here is a bag with a hundred ounces of gold, the last we got to-day from our claim. Will you take it, and from time to time give help in the way of half a sack of flour and other provisions to men who may be down in the world from a run of ill-luck, and not from any fault of their own."

"I will gladly do so," Frank replied; "such a fund as this would enable me to gladden the hearts of scores of men. You can rely upon it, sir, that I will take care to see that it is laid out in accordance with your instructions."

After leaving the tent, Frank found James Adams sitting down on a log a short distance away.

"I would not disturb you," the latter said, "as I thought perhaps you were having a chat with my father—indeed he told me he should like to have a talk with you alone; but I want myself to tell you how conscious I am that I owe my happiness to you. Has my father told you how I am situated, and that I am going home to claim the dearest girl in the world, if, as I hope and believe, I shall find she has waited for me?"

"Your father has told me more," Frank said; "he has told me how nobly you devoted your life to his, and why, and I am truly glad that so much good has come of our meeting. More than that first little help I must disclaim, for it was Abe and not I who believed in your father's dreams, which I confess I had no shadow of belief in, though they have, so unaccountably to me, been verified."

"Nothing you can say, Frank, will minimise what you have done for us. You saved my father's life. If it had not been for you his dream would never have been carried into effect, and he would now be lying in the graveyard on the top of the hill, and I should be working hopelessly as a day labourer. I only want to say, that if at any time you want a friend, you can rely upon James Adams up to the last penny he has in the world."

The next morning Mr. Adams and his son started for San Francisco, and Frank and his party began to work their claims from the bottom of the shaft. Although they paid well, they proved far less rich than they had expected; they got good returns from the gravel, but found no pockets in the bed rock, which was perfectly smooth and even. They found that on either side of the Adams' claims the wall of rock behind swept round; this, no doubt, had caused an eddy at this spot, which had worked out the hole in the bed rock, and caused the deposit of so large a quantity of gold here; and, singularly enough, Mr. Adams' dream had led him to take up the exact spot under which alone the gold had been so largely deposited. The party had taken on several hands, and six weeks sufficed to clear out the paying stuff in their claims, and it was found that, after paying all their expenses, there remained eight hundred ounces of gold; a handsome result, but still very far below what they had reason to expect from the richness of the stuff in the claims lying in the centre of their ground.

This, however, added to the five hundred ounces they had received from Mr. Adams, gave them a total of about a thousand pounds each. They held a consultation on the night of the final clean-up. Two of the party were disposed to return east with their money, but they finally came round to Abe's view.

"A thousand pounds is a nice sum—I don't say it ain't—for less than six months' work; still, to my mind, now we are here, with the chance of doing just as well if we go on, I think it would be a fool's trick to give it up. Five thousand dollars will buy a good farm east, but one could work it with a good deal more comfort and sartainty if one had another five thousand lying in the bank ready to draw upon in case of bad times. We ain't fools; we don't mean to gamble or drink away what we have made; it will just lie in the bank at Sacramento until we want to draw it. If we work another year we may double it, but we can't make it less; we have got our horses still, and I vote we go back to our work as it was before, three of us digging and two carrying. We know that way we can pay our expenses, however bad our luck may be, so thar ain't nothing to loose in sticking to it for a bit longer, and thar may be a lot to gain."

This view prevailed, and in a short time the party moved off to another place; for Cedar Camp was getting deserted, the other claims taken up on the flat had paid their way, but little more, and the men were off to new discoveries, of which they had heard glowing accounts.

For the next two months no marked success attended the labours of Frank and his comrades, they paid their expenses, and that was all. Frank enjoyed the life; he was in no hurry to get rich, and it gave him great pleasure to be able occasionally to give a helping hand to miners whose luck was bad, from the fund with which Mr. Adams had intrusted him. The work was hard, but he scarcely felt it, for his muscles were now like steel, and his frame had widened out until he was as broad and strong as any of his companions, and few would have recognised in him the lad who had shipped on board the Mississippi fifteen months before.



CHAPTER XIX.

STRIKING IT RICH.

TWICE the party of gold-diggers shifted their location, each time following a rush to some freshly-discovered locality; but no stroke of good fortune attended them. At the end of each week a few ounces of gold remained to be added to the pile after the payment of expenses, but so far the earnings of the carriers far exceeded those of the diggers. One day, as Abe and Frank were just starting on their way down to Sacramento, they met three men coming along, each leading two laden horses. As the two teams met there was a shout of recognition.

"Hello, Abe! I have been asking for you of every one since we got here six months ago, but no one seemed to know your party."

"We have been asking for you too," Abe said. "It seems curious that we should be here so long and never run agin each other; but there are such a lot of mining camps, and every one works too hard to spend much time thinking about his neighbours. I expected we should run across each other one of these days. And how goes it with you? How's every one?"

"We are broke up a bit," John Little said. "It wasn't to be expected as we should hang together long after we once got out here; one thought one place best, and another another; but I and my two mates here, and long Simpson, and Alick, and Jones, we have stuck together."

"And where are you now?" Abe inquired.

"Well, I will tell you, Abe, and I wouldn't tell any one else; but I said to you, 'If we ever makes a strike you are in it.' We have been prospecting up in the gulches of the North Yuba. We found as we couldn't get places worth working in the other camps, so we concluded it war best to find out a spot for ourselves; so we six have been a-grubbing and digging up among the mountains, and I tell you we have hit it hot. We three, washing with pans for four hours one morning, got out eight-and-twenty ounces of gold."

"That was something like," Abe said, in admiration.

"I reckon it war. Well, we covered the place up, and left our three mates to look arter it, telling them not to dig or make any sign until we came back. We sold the waggons and teams when we first got over, for they were no good to us in the mountains, and bought horses so as to keep ourselves supplied with provisions. We agreed before we began work we would come down to the town and get enough to last us, then we would move up quietly at night to our find, stake out our claims, and begin to work. Now if you and your four mates likes to join us, you are welcome."

"Well, that's a downright friendly offer, mate, and you bet we accept it. We had one capital stroke of luck, but since that worked out we haven't done much at digging, though Frank here and me has done very fair, trucking goods up from Sacramento. Where are your women?"

"Well," the other said, "we had some trouble about them. You see thar ain't many women up at the camps, they are rough places, and not fit for them. So we agreed that for the present it were best they should keep out of it. So we bought a little place with ten or twelve acres of ground, down at the foot of the hills, and there our wives and the kids are stopping. There's a big orchard, and they are raising vegetables, and when we goes down for supplies we brings up a load or two of fruit and vegetables, and rare prices they fetch, I can tell you, more nor enough to keep them all down there. But we have agreed to bring two of them up now to cook and wash, and leave the others to look arter the place and the kids. Simpson and Jones ain't married, you know. Women have a right to claims as well as men, and of course we shall take up for those we bring up, as well as for two big lads; so that will give us ten claims, besides the extra claims for discovery. So with your five claims we can get hold of a tidy bit of ground. We are going to take these stores up now, and leave them in charge of our friends in the gulch, who will keep them hid in the woods, and then we can go back and bring up the women and a cargo of vegetables."

"Well, in four days we will meet you here. I will take all the horses and load them up. We were going to bring up flour for the storekeeper, but now we will get stores for ourselves. We will bring as much as we can get along with. We can sell what we don't want, for there is sure to be a rush in a short time. Frank shall go back and tell the storekeeper we ain't a-coming with the flour."

This was arranged, and four days later Abe and his party arrived at the spot agreed on, and an hour or two later the cavalcade, with the three men, two women, and two boys of fifteen or sixteen years old, came up, and the united party started together. It was some fifty miles to the spot where the gold had been discovered. Sometimes they wound along in deep valleys, passing several camps in full operation. At the last camp, which was a small one, a few questions were asked them as to their destination.

"We are just going a-prospecting for the mountain of gold," Abe replied, "and as we have got six months' stores aboard we mean to find it. We will send you down a few nuggets when we get up there."

"We shall have some of them after us in a day or two," John Little said; "every one suspects every one else; and they will make a pretty story of it, I guess, thinking as we shouldn't have brought the women up all this distance without having some place in our minds."

At last they arrived at their destination, the mouth of a little gorge running off the deep valley of the north Yuba. The gorge widened out into a narrow valley, and the party made its way among the pebbles and boulders at its bottom for a quarter of a mile, and then three men came out from among the trees and greeted them heartily.

"No one has been up here?" John Little asked.

"Two chaps came up and prospected about a bit, but they did not seem to hit on the right place; at any rate they went away again."

"All the better," John said. "Now let us stake out our claims at once, then we are all right, whoever comes."

The spot selected was at the head of the little valley; it ended here abruptly, and the stream came down forty feet precipitously into a hollow.



"This looks a likely spot, indeed," Abe said; "there must have been a thundering great waterfall here in the old days. I expect it wore a hole for itself in the rock, and if it is as rich as you say on the surface, there is no saying how rich it may be when we get down to the bed rock."

They had already settled that the two parties should work in partnership, and as, including the women and boys, they numbered fifteen, and could take up the five claims which, by mining law, the discoverer of a new place was entitled to, they had in all twenty claims, which gave them the whole of the little amphitheatre at the foot of the fall for a distance of fifty yards down.

The men all set to work with their axes, and by nightfall much had been done. Frank's party had their tent, and the two small tents of the other party were allotted to the married couples. A rough hut was got up for the rest of the men; this was to act as the kitchen and general room. A storehouse was erected of stout logs, with earth piled thickly over it to keep out the wet, and here their stores were securely housed. The tents and huts were on the slope, where the rocks widened out twenty yards below the bottom of their claim.

It was late in the second evening before the work was done. All were anxious to test the ground, but it was agreed not to touch it until they had housed themselves. At daybreak they were at work, and soon all were washing out pans of gravel at the stream; the results fully justified their expectations,—there being a residuum of glittering grains at the bottom of each pan varying in weight from a pennyweight to a quarter of an ounce.

"Now," Abe said, "I should suggest that we makes a big cradle, fifteen feet long by three feet wide, and hang it on cross poles so as to be able to rock it easily; then we will dam up the stream at the top of the fall, and lead it down straight through a shoot into the cradle; of course the shoot will have a sluice so as to let in just as much water as we want, and that way two men will do the work of eight or ten washing."

Abe's plan was agreed to, and all the men set to work to construct the dam, cradle, and shoot.

It took two days' hard labour before all was in readiness, and then the work began in earnest. Two men swayed the cradle, four others shovelled the gravel and dirt into it, three continually stirred the contents and swept off the large stones and pebbles from the top, while the other two carried them away beyond the boundaries of their claims.

At the lower end of the cradle was a sheet of iron perforated with holes, large at the top, but getting smaller lower down, and altogether closed four inches from the bottom; through these holes the sand and gravel flowed away. All day they worked vigorously and without intermission, and great was the excitement when, at the end of the day's work, they proceeded to clear-up by emptying the cradle and examining the bottom. A shout of satisfaction arose as the particles of gold were seen lying thickly in the gravel at the bottom of the cradle. Very carefully this was washed out, and it was found that there were over fifty ounces of gold dust.

"I believe," Abe said, "that we have hit upon the richest spot in Californy. Ef it's like this on the surface, what is it going to be like when we get down to the bed rock?"

The next morning two diggers arrived on the scene; they saw at once by the methodical manner in which the place was being worked that the party must have found gold in paying quantities.

"Is it rich, mates?" they asked eagerly.

"Ay," Abe replied, "rich enough for anything. There are the boundaries of our claims, lads, and ye are welcome to set to work below them."

The miners threw off their coats, and at once set to work, and a shout of exultation greeted the result of the first bucket of stuff they washed out.

"Another week," Abe said, "and every foot of ground in the gulch from here down to the Yuba will be taken up. The news will spread like wildfire."

His anticipations were justified, and no one who came along a fortnight later would have recognised, in the scene of life and activity, the quiet wooded valley which Abe and his party had entered. The trees on the lower slopes were all felled; huts and tents stood along on the slopes from the head to the mouth of the valley, and several hundred men were hard at work.

For once every man was satisfied, and it was agreed that it was the richest place which had been discovered in California. But though all were doing well, their finds did not approach those of the party at the head of the valley. The spot on which these were at work was indeed a natural trap for gold. At the lower end of the claim the bed rock was found at the depth of three feet only; but it sloped rapidly down to the foot of the fall, and here an iron rod had been driven down and showed it to be forty feet below the surface.

The bed rock had indeed, in the course of ages, been pounded away by the fall of water, and by the boulders and rocks brought down in time of flood, and in the deep hole the gold had lodged, a comparatively small proportion being carried away over the lower lip of the basin. When the bed rock was found at the lower end of the claim, they set to work to clear away and wash the whole surface to that depth, as far as the foot of the rocks on either side of the little amphitheatre.

Frank and two of the men went down to Sacramento with horses to bring up pumps, for below the level of the lip of the hole it was, of course, full of water. The stream was carried in a shoot beyond this point, and when the pumps arrived they were soon set to work.

Every foot that they descended they found, as they expected, the gravel to be richer and richer; and many nuggets, some of them weighing upwards of a pound, were found.

At the end of each week four of the miners, armed to the teeth, carried down the gold and deposited it at the Bank of Sacramento. An escort was needed, for many attacks were made on gold convoys by parties of desperadoes; four men would indeed have been an insufficient guard, but at the same time other diggers in the valley sent down their find, and the escort was always made up to eight men from the general body.

Frank, from the first, generally formed one of the escort; he himself was perfectly ready to take his share in the more laborious work of digging, but where Frank went Turk went, and Turk formed so valuable a member of the escort that the rest of the party begged his master always to go with the treasure. Every week had added to the weight and power of the animal, and he was now a most formidable-looking beast. He was extremely quiet and good-tempered at ordinary times, except that he would not allow any stranger to touch him; but when at all excited, his hair bristled from his neck to his tail, and his low, formidable growl, gave a warning which few men would have been inclined to despise,—indeed, of the many rough characters in the camp, there was not one who would not rather have faced a man with a revolver in his hand than have ventured upon a conflict with Turk.

The dog appeared to know that the escort duty was one which demanded especial vigilance. On the road a low growl always gave notice of the approach of strangers; and at night, when they stopped, and the heavy valises were carried from the pack animals into the wayside resting-places, Turk always lay down with his head upon them. He seemed so thoroughly to understand that this was in his special charge, that although at no other time would he leave Frank's side for a moment, he was, when thus on guard, content to lie quiet even should Frank take a stroll after reaching the hotel.

This guardianship greatly relieved the cares of the escort, as once placed under Turk's charge they felt no further anxiety about the treasure, for it would have been as much as any stranger's life was worth to have entered the room where Turk lay on guard. Once, indeed, the attempt was made. While the escort were taking their meals, a man went round to the window of the room, and, opening it, threw a large piece of poisoned meat to Turk. The dog placed one paw upon it, but remained, with his great head on the treasure, watching the man outside holding another piece in his hand, and speaking in soothing tones. The man, seeing that he did not move, began to climb in through the window. Suddenly, as if shot from a spring, Turk hurled himself from his recumbent position upon him.

The movement was so rapid and unexpected, that before the man could spring back from the window Turk had seized him by the shoulder. A shriek, followed by a heavy fall, brought the party rushing into the room. It was empty, but there was the sound of a scuffle outside; they ran to the window, but their interference was too late. Turk had shifted his hold, and, grasping the man by the throat, was shaking him as a terrier would a rat; and when, in obedience to Frank's voice, he loosened his hold, life was extinct. Not only was there a terrible wound in the throat of the robber, but his neck was broken by the shaking.

This was the only attempt which was ever made upon the treasure; for Turk gained such a reputation by the deed, that it was questionable whether, had he accompanied the pack-mules as their sole escort to Sacramento, the bravest stage-robbers in the district would have ventured to interfere with them.

After a time the lower valley became worked out, and numbers drifted away to other diggings; but it was four months before the party at the waterfall completely worked out their claims. The value of the ground in the last few feet, at the lower end of the hole, was immense; for in this, for ages, the gold from above had settled, and for the last fortnight the clear-up each day was worth a thousand pounds. When the last spadeful had been cleared up, and the last consignment sent down to the bank, they made up their total, and found that in four months they had taken from the hole upwards of sixty thousand pounds.

It had been agreed before beginning that the two women and the boys were each to have a half-share, and that the two women who had looked after the families below were to have the same. There were then in all six half-shares, and eleven shares, and each share was therefore worth over four thousand pounds. There were many instances in California in which parties of two or three men had made larger sums than this in the same time, but there were few in which a company had taken out so large a quantity from one hole.

At the meeting that night the partnership was dissolved, it being agreed that they should all go down to Sacramento together, and there each receive his share. One or two of the party said that they would go down to San Francisco for a spree, and then return and try their luck again. Four of the western farmers said that they should buy farms in the State and settle down there. Abe, and two other hunters, said they should return east.

"And what are you going to do, Frank?"

"I don't know," Frank said. "I don't want to return to Europe, and have no particular object in view. I think that I shall let my money remain in the bank for a bit, at any rate, and go in for freighting on a large scale. I shall buy a couple of dozen mules, and hire some Mexicans to drive them. I like the life among these mountains, and there is a good thing to be made out of carrying. But I have had enough of digging; it's tremendously hard work, and I couldn't expect to meet with such a slice of luck as this again if I worked for fifty years."

"Well, Frank, I shall not try to dissuade you," Abe said. "If I was going on hunting, I should say 'Come along with me to the plains'; but me and my mate is going east, as each of us has got some one waiting for us thar, and I expect we shall marry and settle down. I will write to you at Sacramento when I get fixed, and I needn't tell you how glad the sight of your face will make me if you are ever travelling my way."

A few days afterwards the party separated at Sacramento, Frank only remaining two days in that town. The wild scenes of dissipation and recklessness disgusted him; he looked with loathing upon the saloons where gambling went on from morning till night, broken only by an occasional fierce quarrel, followed in most cases by the sharp crack of a revolver, or by desperate encounters with bowie knives. Bad as things were, however, they were improving somewhat, for a Vigilance Committee had just been started, comprising all the prominent citizens of the town. Parties of armed men had seized upon some of the most notorious desperadoes of the place, and had hung them on the lamp-posts, while others had been warned that a like fate awaited them if they were found three hours later within the limits of the town.

Similar scenes took place in San Francisco, for the force of the law was wholly insufficient to restrain the reckless and desperate men who congregated in the towns, and who thought no more of taking life than eating a meal. To put a stop to the frightful state of things prevailing, the more peaceful of the San Francisco citizens had also been obliged to organise a Vigilance Committee to carry out what was called Lynch law, a rough and ready method of justice subject to grave abuses under other circumstances, but admirably suited to such a condition of things as at that time prevailed in California.

For some time Frank worked between Sacramento and the diggings. He enjoyed the life, riding in the pure mountain air, under the shade of the forests, at the head of the team. Sometimes he wondered vaguely how long this was to last; if he was always to remain a rover, or whether he would ever return to England. Sometimes he resolved that he would go home and make an effort to clear himself of this stain which rested upon his name; but he could see no method whatever of doing so, as he had nothing but his own unsupported assertion of his innocence to adduce against the circumstantial evidence against him, and there was no reason why his word should be taken now more than it was before.

In many of the camps life had now become more civilised. In cases where the bed of gold-bearing gravel was large, and where, consequently, work would be continued for a long time, wooden towns had sprung up, with hotels, stores, drinking and gambling saloons. Work was here carried on methodically; water was, in some cases, brought many miles in little canals from mountain lakes down to the diggings, and operations were carried on on a large scale. Companies were being formed for buying up and working numbers of claims together.

The valleys were honeycombed with shafts driven down, sometimes through a hundred feet of gravel, to the bed rock, as it was found much more profitable working this way than in surface-washing. Stage-coaches and teams of waggons were running regularly now along well-made roads. Frank's earnings were therefore smaller than they had been at first, but they still paid his expenses, and added a few pounds each trip to his account at the bank.

He took shares in many of the companies formed for bringing down water from the lakes, and these were soon found to be an exceedingly valuable property, paying in many cases a return each month equal to the capital.

The life of a teamster was not without danger: bears in considerable numbers were found among the mountains, and these, when pressed by hunger, did not hesitate to attack passing teams. In times of rain the rivers rose rapidly, and the valleys were full of fierce torrents, sometimes preventing horses from crossing for many hours, and being still more dangerous if the rise commenced when the track to be followed wound along in the foot of the valley. Several times Frank narrowly escaped with his life when thus surprised; but in each case he managed to reach some spot where his horses could climb the sides before the water took them off their feet.

The greatest danger, however, of the roads, arose from the lawless men that frequented them. Coaches were frequently stopped and plundered, and even the gold escorts were attacked with success. Strong parties of the miners sometimes went out in pursuit of the highwaymen, but it was very seldom that success attended them, for the great forests extended so vast a distance over the hills, that anything like a thorough search was impossible.

Frank, however, treated this danger lightly; he never carried money with him save what he received on arrival at camp for the carriage of his goods, while the flour, bacon, and other stores which he carried up offered no temptation to the robbers.



One evening, however, having been detained some hours before he could cross a river swollen by a thunderstorm, he was travelling along the road much later than usual; the moon was shining brightly, and as the long team of mules descended a hill he meditated camping for the night at its foot.

Suddenly he heard a pistol-shot ahead, followed by five or six others. Ordering his men to follow slowly, he put spurs to his horse, and, drawing his revolver, galloped on. The firing had ceased just as he caught sight of a coach standing at the bottom of a hill; three bodies were lying in the road, and the passengers were in the act of alighting under the pistols of four mounted men who stood beside them. Frank rode up at full speed, Turk bounding beside him.

The highwaymen turned, and two pistol-shots were fired at the new-comer. The balls whistled close to him, but Frank did not answer the fire until he arrived within three paces of the nearest highwayman, whom he shot dead; the other three fired, and Frank felt a sensation as of a hot iron crossing his cheek, while his left arm dropped useless by his side. Another of the highwaymen fell under his next shot; at the same instant Turk, with a tremendous bound, leapt at the throat of one of the others who was in the act of levelling his pistol. The impetus was so tremendous that man and horse rolled in the road, the pistol exploding harmlessly in the air. The struggle on the ground lasted but a few seconds, and then Turk, having disposed of his adversary, turned to look after a fresh foe; but the field was clear, for the remaining robber had, on seeing Turk, turned his horse with a cry of alarm, and ridden away at full speed. The passengers crowded round Frank, thanking him for their rescue.

"I am glad to have been of use," Frank said, "and to have arrived just in time; and now will one of you help me off my horse, for my left arm is broken, I think."

The driver of the coach had been shot through the heart by the first shot fired by the robbers. There were two armed guards, one of whom had been killed, and the other wounded, while two of the passengers who had left the coach to take part in the defence had also been killed; the wounded guard was helped down from the coach.

"You have done a good night's work," he said to Frank; "there are nigh ten thousand ounces of gold in the coach. No doubt those fellows got wind of the intention of the bank people at Yuba to send it down to Sacramento; it was kept very dark too, and I don't believe that one of the passengers knew of it. They would have sent more than two of us to guard it if they had thought that it had been let out; there must have been some one in the secret who gave notice beforehand to these chaps.

"Now, gentlemen, if one of you will take the ribbons we will be moving on. I will get up beside him, and I will trouble any of you who have got Colts to take your places up behind; there ain't no chance of another attack to-night, still, we may as well look out. Now, sir, if you will take your place inside we will take you on until we get to some place where your arm can be looked to. You will hear from the directors of the bank as to this night's work."

Frank's team had now arrived on the spot, and he directed the men to complete their journey and deliver their stores, and then to go down to the stables where they put up at Sacramento and there to wait his arrival.

Frank was left behind at the next town, his fellow-passengers overwhelming him with thanks, many having considerable amounts of gold concealed about them, the result, in some cases, of months' work at the diggings.

One of them proposed that each man should contribute one-fourth of the gold he carried to reward their rescuer, a proposition which was at once accepted. Frank, however, assured them that although leading a team of mules he was well off, and in no need whatever of their kind offer.

Seeing that he was in earnest, his fellow-passengers again thanked him cordially, and took their places in the coach. They were not to be balked in their gratitude, and three days later a very handsome horse, with saddle and holsters with a brace of Colt's revolvers, arrived up from Sacramento for Frank, with the best wishes of the passengers in the coach. On the same day a letter arrived saying that at a meeting of the directors of the bank it had been resolved that, as he had saved them from a loss of fifty thousand pounds by his gallantry, a sum of two thousand pounds should be placed to his credit at the bank in token of their appreciation of the great service he had rendered them.



CHAPTER XX.

A MESSAGE FROM ABROAD.

"I LIKE this, grandfather. I think I like it better than anything I have seen. In the sunlight the cathedral is too dazzling and white, and the eye does not seem to find any rest; but in the moonlight it is perfectly lovely. And then the music of that Austrian band is just right from here; it is not too loud, and yet we can hear every note. Somehow, I always like better not to see the players, but just to have the benefit of the music as we do now, and to sit taking it in, and looking at that glorious cathedral, all silver and black, in the moonlight. It is glorious!" Harry murmured, "I could not have believed there was anything so lovely."

"Yes, yes," Captain Bayley said absently, "the ices are good."

"I am not talking of the ices, grandfather, though no doubt they are good. I am talking about the cathedral."

"Are you, my boy?" Captain Bayley said, rousing himself. "Yes, there are cathedrals which beat Milan when seen in broad daylight, but in the moonlight there is no building in the world to compare with it, unless it be the Taj Mahal at Agra. Of course they differ wholly and entirely in style, and no comparison can be made between them; the only resemblance is that both are built of white marble; but of the two, I own that I prefer the Taj."

"I am afraid I shall never see that," Alice Hardy said, "but I am quite content with Milan; I could stop here for a month."

"A month, my dear!" Captain Bayley exclaimed, in consternation, "three days will be ample. You know we agreed to stop here till Friday, and then to go on to Como."

"Well, perhaps we will let you go on Friday, but we shall have to dawdle about the lakes for some time. We can't rush through them as we have been rushing through all these grand old Italian towns. We must have a long rest there, you know."

"Yes, I suppose so," the old officer said reluctantly; "but I like to be on the move."

Captain Bayley had, indeed, somewhat tried his two young companions by his eagerness to be ever on the move. They had now been nearly two years absent from England; they had visited all the principal towns of Germany and Austria, had gone down the Danube and stopped at Constantinople, had spent a fortnight in the Holy Land, and had then gone to Egypt and ascended the Nile as far as the First Cataract, then they had taken a steamer to Naples, and thence made their way up through Italy to Milan, and now were about to cross over into Switzerland, and were, after spending a month there, to go on to Paris, and thence home.

The highest surgical advice, and the most skilful appliances, aided by the benefit he had derived from the German baths, had done much for Harry, and he had for months passed many hours a day in the hands of a skilful shampooer, who travelled with him as valet. He had, to a great extent, recovered the use of his legs, and now walked with the assistance of two sticks, and there was every hope that in time he would be able to dispense with these aids, although he would always walk somewhat stiffly. Captain Bayley was delighted at this improvement in his grandson, and would have been perfectly happy had it not been for the continual worry caused him by the failure of his advertisements to elicit any news whatever of Frank.

It was this uncertainty that caused his restlessness, and he was for ever pressing forward to the next town to which he had directed letters to be sent, constantly suffering disappointments when he found the usual announcement from his solicitor that no news had been obtained of his missing nephew.

Alice and Harry shared his anxiety; but their pleasure in the new scenes they were visiting prevented their being so entirely engrossed in the subject as he was; and although scarcely a day passed without some talk as to Frank's whereabouts, and the probability of his discovery, they were able to put the subject aside and to enter with full zest into the scenes they were visiting. But in Captain Bayley's mind the question was always uppermost; sincerely attached as he had always been to Frank, the thought that his favourite might have suffered a cruel and dastardly wrong, and might now be slaving for his living in some unknown part of the world, worried and troubled him incessantly, and he felt that, happy as he was at the discovery of his grandson, he could never be contented and tranquil until this matter was cleared up. Besides, in his will Fred Barkley was still standing as heir to one-third of his fortune, and the thought that he might die before the mystery was cleared up, and that possibly this property might go to the man he suspected of so foul a crime, was absolutely intolerable to the old officer. He had, indeed, been engaged in a correspondence with his lawyer, Mr. Griffith, in reference to his will, which he wanted worded so that Fred Barkley should not take the fortune left him until the question of the theft of the ten pounds should be cleared up. Mr. Griffith pointed out that it was scarcely possible to frame a will in such a way.

"Had your nephew been publicly accused of the crime, doubtless a clause might be framed by which the money would remain in the hands of trustees until he had cleared himself to their satisfaction; but in this case there is no shadow of suspicion against him. Another person has, in the eyes of those who know the circumstances of the affair, been adjudged guilty. No one has breathed a word against the honour of your nephew; and therefore to say that he shall not touch the legacy until his honour is cleared would be to take a most extraordinary, and, I think, unprecedented course. In fact I don't see how it could be done."

Captain Bayley had replied hotly that it must be done, and, owing to his frequent changes of address, and the time occupied in the letters passing to and fro, the correspondence had already lasted for some months. What enraged Captain Bayley most of all was that Mr. Griffith would not admit that any doubt whatever existed as to Frank Norris's guilt, nor that there was a shadow of reasonable suspicion against his cousin; and each time the evidence was marshalled up, Captain Bayley had to acknowledge to himself that the lawyer's arguments were unanswerable, and that the only grounds that he himself had for his doubts were his affection for Frank, and the fixed, passionate belief of Alice Hardy in his innocence. That day Captain Bayley was exceptionally out of temper and irascible, for he had that morning received a letter from Mr. Griffith positively declining to draw up a clause for insertion in the will of the nature he desired, and saying that if Captain Bayley insisted upon its insertion, much as he should regret it after so long a connection had existed between them, he should prefer that his client should place himself in other hands.

"I trust," he said, "that this will cause no interruption in the personal friendship which has for years existed between us, but I would risk even that rather than draft a clause which I consider would be in the highest degree unjust, and which, I tell you fairly, would, I believe, be upset in any court of law. Nothing would, in my opinion, be more unfair, I may say more monstrous, than that a hand should be stretched from the grave to strike a blow at the honour of a young man of stainless reputation."