"We'll have to go back," said Abe Blower, in a low voice, after a pause, in which the three of the party had gazed around at the walls of the cavern and at each other. "An' we don't want to lose no time nuther," added the old miner.

"No, for the others will be wondering what has become of us," put in Roger.

"It ain't thet so much, lad, it's the torches—they won't last forever."

All gazed at the lights and saw that the old miner was right. The first ones they had lit had burnt out and the remaining lot were more than half consumed.

Without further words they turned around, in an endeavor to retrace their steps to the point where they had made a false turn. Abe Blower led the way and the boys followed, all keeping their eyes wide open, to make certain that nothing of importance might escape them.

On and on they went, seeing one spot after another that looked familiar. They even passed the spot where Dave had thrown away the end of his first torch. The bit of wood was still smoking.

"Here's the split in the cave, I think," said the old miner, at last.

They had reached a spot where the cavern widened out into a large, circular opening. From this point could be seen several other openings. Evidently they had taken the wrong passageway.

"But which is the right one?" questioned Roger. "They all look alike to me."

"Look putty much alike to me, too," returned Abe Blower. "If only I had thought to put down a few chalk marks!" he sighed.

Dave said nothing but went around to the various openings, examining all with care by the light of his torch.

"I believe this is the one we came in by," he announced, a few minutes later.

"What makes you think so?" asked his chum.

"Do you see that curiously-shaped rock over there? Well, I remember seeing that as we came along—it reminded me of a giant's face. Now, you can't see that rock that way only from here."

"Perhaps you are right, Dave. I must confess I am all mixed up," and Roger sighed.

"We can try it for a little distance," said Abe Blower. "Then, if we won't see anything we remember seem' before, we can come back to this place."

"But our torches——" began the senator's son.

"We'll use one at a time—that will make 'em last," said Dave.

This was considered a good suggestion, and all but one of the flaming lights were extinguished. Then they walked down the passageway as quickly as safety permitted.

"I—I don't see anything that looks like what I saw before," said Roger, after a bit. "The rocks look all alike to me."

"An' to me," returned the old miner, and there was something of hopelessness in his tones.

But they kept on. Dave had the torch and was ahead, with the others close at his heels. The single torch gave but an uncertain light and cast grotesque shadows on all sides.

"Look!" cried our hero, a little later.

He pointed to a series of small stones resting on the floor of the cavern. They were somewhat in the form of a circle, with a large stone in the center.

"Oh, I remember those stones!" cried Roger, joyfully.

"So do I!" put in Abe Blower. "I reckon as how we are in the right passageway now, lads!" he continued, in a more hopeful tone.

"I am sure we are!" came from our hero. "But we have a pretty good distance to go yet."

"Yes, an' be careful thet ye don't go down in none o' them pesky holes," cautioned the old miner.

Quarter of an hour later they reached the spot where they had shot the lioness. Looking ahead, they saw a torch waving in the air.

"Hullo! hullo!" came in the voice of Phil. "Where are you?"

"Here we are!" answered Dave and Roger.

"You've been a long time in here," went on the shipowner's son.

"We got lost," announced Roger.

"And we shot the mate of that mountain lion," added Dave.

They soon reached Phil, and then the whole party quickly made their way out of the cave. Those who had been left outside listened with interest to what Dave and the others had to relate.

"Well, that sure must be some cave!" exclaimed Tom Dillon. "An' as Abe says, we must come back and examine it more closely some time. There may be a lot of gold an' silver in it, an' maybe other metals."

"Perhaps radium!" cried Phil. "Say, wouldn't it be great to find a radium mine!"

"I don't think ye'll find any o' thet new-fangled stuff here," answered Tom Dillon. "An' anyway, gold an' silver is good enough for me," and he smiled broadly.

Nightfall found the party still among the loose rocks that overspread the mountainside where the great landslide had taken place. Looking at the forsaken and desolate region, the boys could well understand why the search for the lost mine had been given up. There was nothing to be seen that looked in the least promising. Rocks and dirt rested on all sides, and that was all.

"We looked over the rocks and the dirt putty well, too," explained Tom Dillon. "But there wasn't nary a sight o' gold; eh, Abe?"

"Not enough fer to buy a plug o' tobaccer with," answered the other miner.

As one spot was no better than another apparently, they did not spend much time in looking for a place to camp. In one place was a little rough brush and here the horses were tethered. Then a tiny fire was kindled in a hollow of the rocks, and over this they prepared their supper,—a rather slim affair, considering that every one was tremendously hungry.

"Not a seven-course dinner," said Phil, with a sickly grin.

"Never mind," returned Dave, cheerfully. "Just wait till after we have found that lost mine and get into Yellowstone Park. I'm sure the hotels there serve the best of meals."

"O dear! now I am here, it doesn't look so easy—I mean to locate that mine," sighed Roger.

"What, you're not going to give up so soon, are you, lad!" cried Tom Dillon.

"Why, we ain't begun no search yit," added Abe Blower. "Time to git kind o' tired arfter ye have been here a week or two an' nuthin' doin'."

To this none of the boys replied. But they could not help but think what a dreary time it would be, searching among those rocks and that loose dirt day after day, if the lost mine were not brought to light.

The day's exertions had tired all hands, and they slept soundly throughout the night, with nothing coming to disturb them. When the boys got up they found Abe Blower already at the campfire, preparing a breakfast of his favorite flapjacks and bacon. He fried his big flapjacks one at a time in a pan, and it was simply wonderful to the boys how he would throw a cake in the air and catch it in the pan bottom side up.

"It's the knack on't," said Tom Dillon, as he saw the lads watching the feat performed. "I know some old miners kin keep two pans a-goin' that way, and never miss a cake."

"I'd like to try it," said Phil.

"Not now—we ain't got no batter to waste," replied Abe Blower, with a chuckle.

The morning meal at an end, the hunt for traces of the lost Landslide Mine commenced in earnest. Dave and his chums had come dressed for the work, and the whole party were provided with picks, shovels, crowbars, axes, and a couple of gold-pans.

The whole of that day was spent on the mountainside, the various members of the party separating from time to time and then coming together, to relate their various experiences. The old miners had told the boys how to search and what landmarks to look for, so that they did not seek altogether blindly.

It was hard, hot work, for the sun poured down all the long day. And added to that, water was scarce, for the nearest spring was well down the mountainside, and even this had a bitter taste which rendered it far from palatable.

"Well, nothing doing so far," said Roger, as they came together in the evening.

"Never mind, we may have better luck to-morrow," returned Dave, as cheerfully as he could.

Several days went by, including Sunday, and still they found nothing that looked like a trace of the lost Landslide Mine. They had covered a tract of rocks and dirt several hundred feet in width and all of half a mile long. The only spot they had avoided was one where some loose rocks looked to be positively dangerous.

"We might tackle that, but we'd be taking a big risk," said Dave.

"Right you are," said Phil. "If those rocks tumbled on us, it would be good-by to this world!"

"But the entrance to the lost mine may be under those very rocks!" sighed Roger. "And if so, just see what we'd miss by not searching there."

"I've got an idee fer tacklin' thet place," said Abe Blower. "It will be hard work, but putty safe—if we are careful."

"You mean to get above the rocks and roll 'em down the mountainside, one after another?" questioned Tom Dillon.

"Exactly, Tom. We could do it with the wust o' the rocks that are loose—an' the rest wouldn't matter so much."

"But we'd have to take care that we didn't roll the rocks on somebody's head," remarked Dave.

"To be sure."

The task of getting at the dangerous rocks was begun the next day. Stone after stone was sent crashing down the mountainside, into a desolate waste below. It was hard work, and the boys were exhausted by the time night fell around them. They had found a number of openings under the rocks, but none of these had proved to be the entrance to the lost mine.

"And yet, somehow, I'm almost certain this is the spot where the mine was located," said Abe Blower, after another look around. "The scenery yonder looks jest like it."

"So it does," answered Tom Dillon. "I feel that the Landslide Mine was just about here, an' my claim was over there," and he pointed to some rocks in the distance.

Twice during the time that they were sending the big stones down the mountainside they had caught sight of another party among the rocks, once on horseback and again on foot. But the party had been too far away for any one to be recognized, even with the field-glass.

"Maybe it's the Sol Blugg crowd," said Dave.

"Yes, and maybe Merwell and Haskers are with them," added Phil.

The wind had begun to blow strongly and the sun went down in a heavy mass of angry-looking clouds.

"Up against a storm, I reckon," said Tom Dillon, after a careful survey of the sky.

"Yes, an' when she comes like as not she'll be a rip-snorter," returned Abe Blower.

Supper was hurried, because of the wind and the heavy clouds, and then the whole party withdrew to the shelter of some rocks, taking their horses with them.

"Do you think it will be very bad?" asked Dave, of old Tom Dillon.

"Perhaps, lad; some storms up here on the mountain are about as bad as they make 'em," was the grave reply.



CHAPTER XXV

CAUGHT IN A STORM

"Say, but this is sure going to be a corker!"

Dave shouted out the words—to make himself heard above the whistling of the wind as it blew across the little plateau on the mountainside, where the party had gone into camp.

It was half an hour later, and during that time the oncoming storm had approached steadily. At first the wind had come in fitful gusts, bending the scant brushwood among the rocks first in one direction and then another. This had been followed by a sudden dash of rain, and for a few minutes they had hoped that the worst of the downpour would pass to the south of them. But then had come a sudden turn, and now the rain was descending on them in torrents, driven in a slanting direction by the wind, which showed no signs of abating.

"I should say it was a corker!" returned Roger, as he brushed the water from his face and peered beyond the rocks. To get out of that driving downfall was impossible.

"I wish we were in that cave," cried Phil. "We'd be as dry as a bone in there."

"Not if the roof leaked," returned the senator's son, grimly. "Besides, somehow I don't think it would be safe."

"Why not?"

"The rain might wash down some of the rocks forming the roof."

"Pooh! they have stayed up so long, I guess they would stay up a little longer," grumbled Phil.

"No sech cave for me," broke in Abe Blower. "The rain makes 'em too dangerous. I was in a mine onct when it rained like this, an', fust thing we knew, about a hundred tons o' rocks slid down, almost buryin' us alive!"

"We'll stay where we are," said Tom Dillon. "The storm won't last forever."

As the night came on, and the storm continued, the boys felt anything but comfortable. Building a campfire was out of the question, for the rain made a dense smoke which the wind swirled all around them, setting them to coughing and the horses to snorting. The animals were as much alarmed as their masters.

"Might as well save your firewood, boys," said Abe Blower. "You'll need it, to dry out by, arfter the rain stops."

"If it ever does stop," grumbled Phil. Rain was Phil's great bugbear when he was on any kind of an outing.

At midnight the rain was coming down as steadily as ever. But the strong wind had died down somewhat, so by remaining close to some overhanging rocks they were more or less protected from the elements. But they could not lie down, and sleep was out of the question.

"Dave, do you think Merwell and Haskers went back to Butte?" asked the senator's son, as the three boys sat close together under a big rock.

"I am sure I don't know, Roger. They'd have to go back unless they fell in with somebody who knew something of this district."

"What do you think of that other party we saw at a distance?"

"They might be the Sol Blugg gang, or they might be almost anybody, Roger. Anybody can come here and try to locate a paying claim."

"Somehow I feel it in my bones that that is the Blugg gang and that Link and old Haskers are with 'em," said Phil. "To my mind, all those fellows are tarred with the same brush, and they would like nothing better than to relocate the lost Landslide Mine first."

"Perhaps you are right," returned Dave. "Well, I don't see how we are going to stop them from going ahead—I mean Blugg and Haskers. Of course we can have Merwell arrested on sight, and Mr. Dillon can have that Staver locked up for trying to steal the horses."

A rush of wind made further conversation just then impossible. So far there had been little thunder and lightning, but now came a flash and a crack that caused the boys to leap to their feet, while the horses plunged and acted as if they wanted to bolt.

"Some stroke, eh?" cried Abe Blower, when the alarm was over. "It must have struck near here."

"It was a little too close for comfort," returned Dave, grimly. "I don't think a spot like this is particularly safe in a storm."

"Oh, ye might git struck down in the valley jest as quick," answered the old miner.

"The rivers will be pretty high after this flood," said Roger.

"Might be as how it will start another landslide, although I hope not," said Tom Dillon, musingly.

"It wouldn't be so bad if the landslide opened up the lost mine," said Dave.

"Oh, thet would be all right, lad,—if we wasn't caught in the fallin' rocks."

Slowly the night wore away, and when daylight came it was still raining. But the wind had gone down and the sky looked as if the rainfall might cease at any moment.

"Wall, we'll try fer breakfast," observed Abe Blower. "Nothin' like a hot cup o' coffee an' some flapjacks to cheer a man up."

The driest of the wood was selected, and they built a new fire with care, in the shelter of the largest of the overhanging rocks. Soon the appetizing odor of freshly made coffee filled the air and all drew close, to have a cup, and to partake of some fried bacon and some of Abe Blower's famous flapjacks.

"Them flapjacks made Abe a good friend," observed Tom Dillon, while eating. "They was the means o' introducing Maurice Harrison to him. Ain't that so, Abe?" And the old miner grinned broadly.

"Right you are!" was the ready reply. "We was in the mountains together, and Maurice didn't have nuthin' to eat. I made him some o' my flapjacks an' then we became pardners fer nigh on to a year. Thet was up at tudder end o' the State," explained Abe Blower.

By the time breakfast was over and the horses had been cared for, the rain had stopped and the sun was breaking through the eastern sky. All in the camp lost no time in changing their wet garments for dry. The soaked clothing was then hung up around the fire and on the rocks in the sun.

"You want to be careful how you climb around this mornin'," warned Tom Dillon. "Some o' the places is mighty slippery. You don't want to slide over no rocks into a hollow an' git killed!"

"No, indeed!" replied Roger, earnestly.

It was not until the middle of the afternoon that they took up the hunt for the lost mine once more. This time the three boys went off together, Abe Blower advising them not to separate while the rocky slopes were so wet.

"You keep together an' me an' Tom will do the same thing," he said. "Then, if anything happens to anybody, the others can help."

For over two hours the boys hunted around, making their way along a ledge of rocks below the point where they had hunted before.

"From the description left by Uncle Maurice, that mine was pretty deep," said Roger. "And if it was, maybe we'll be more apt to find an opening to it from below rather than from above."

"Well, it won't do any harm to look around here, anyway," returned Dave.

They had to proceed with great care, for in spots the water was still running over the rocks and the footing was very slippery. They had a rope with them and all took hold of this, Dave being in front, Phil coming next, and Roger bringing up the rear.

"It's not such an easy job as I thought it would be," panted Phil, after they had made an unusually difficult turn of the ledge. "It kind of takes the wind out of a fellow!"

"Let us rest a bit," suggested Dave. "We can't go much further along the ledge anyway," he added, looking ahead.

They had reached a point where the outcropping of rocks had split in twain, forming the ledge they were on and another ledge twenty or thirty feet away. Between the two ledges was a hollow with jagged rocks far below. The other ledge wound around another hill, leading to the northwest.

"This certainly is a wild country," said Roger, as the boys seated themselves on the inner side of the ledge. "Hunting for gold and silver in a place like this is certainly not easy. Think of spending month after month among rocks like these, looking for 'pay dirt' or 'pay rock,' as they call it!"

"And yet it just suited your uncle," returned Dave, "and it suits Abe Blower and Mr. Dillon."

The boys relapsed into silence, glad of the rest. Dave was thinking of his father, and of the folks who had gone into Yellowstone Park, when suddenly he felt his sleeve pulled by Roger.

"Look!" whispered the senator's son. "Don't make any noise, either of you!"

He had pulled Phil's sleeve also, and now he motioned for his chums to crouch down behind the rocks on which they had been sitting, stones that lay loosely on the ledge, close to the towering cliff.

As the three lads slipped down behind the loose stones on which they had been resting, all gazed in the direction Roger pointed out. On the other ledge several persons had appeared.

"Link Merwell!" gasped Phil. "And see, that Sol Blugg is with him!"

"And here comes Job Haskers and the man called Larry Jaley!" said Dave, in reply.

"Wonder where that other fellow, Staver, is?" murmured Roger.

"Maybe he was too badly hurt to come with them and had to go back," returned Dave.

"Say, I don't see much use of coming along this trail," called out Link Merwell, to those with him.

"It certainly is beastly walking here," said Job Haskers. "I've nearly sprained my ankle several times."

"Well, if we want to find that lost mine we got to hunt fer it," growled Sol Blugg. "It ain't comin' to you, you know."

"I agree thet this trail ain't none too safe," came from Larry Jaley. "If a feller slipped off he'd have some fall, so he would!" he added, looking down into the hollow with its jagged rocks.

Roger nudged Dave in the side.

"They are after the Landslide Mine, just as I supposed!" he murmured.

"Well, they seem to be no nearer finding it than we are," was our hero's reply.

"But they haven't any right to the mine!" burst out Phil. "It belongs to Roger's mother!"

"Listen to what they have to say," warned the senator's son.

The party on the opposite ledge were now so close, and the air was so clear, that all which was said could be heard distinctly.

"I thought sure we'd be able to locate some landmarks before this," growled Link Merwell. "Are you sure this is the right district, Blugg?"

"This is where the Landslide Mine was supposed to be located. You had the description of those landmarks, I didn't," added the Westerner.

Just then Larry Jaley let out a quick cry.

"Look over yonder!" he called. "Sumbuddy behind the rocks!"

He pointed at Dave and the others, and a second later the three youths knew that they had been discovered.

"Come out o' thet, whoever you are!" cried Sol Blugg.

"We might as well get up," said Dave, and arose to his feet. His chums did likewise and then those on one ledge of rocks faced those on the other.



CHAPTER XXVI

PROWLERS IN CAMP

"Huh! so it's you, is it!" cried Link Merwell, in surly tones.

"So you are after my mine!" cried Roger, sharply. "Well, I'll tell you right now, if you locate it, it won't do you any good."

"Bah! We know what we are doing," retorted the youth who in the past had caused Dave and his chums so much trouble. "You can't scare us."

"Link, you ought to be in jail!" burst out Phil.

"You'll never put me there," was the quick retort.

"We have as much right to look for a mine up here as you have," put in Sol Blugg. "If you own a mine, where are your stakes or other landmarks?"

"You know very well that they were carried away by that landslide," answered the senator's son.

"We don't know nuthin' of the kind," came from Larry Jaley. "Your uncle claimed to have a mine up here, but I never seen no proof of it—nor did anybuddy else see any proof. Any of us kin locate a claim, an' you can't stop us."

"This is free land, so far as locatin' a claim is concerned," added Sol Blugg.

"Well, if you locate that mine before we do, don't you dare to remove any of my uncle's landmarks," returned Roger.



"Ha! wot kind o' talk is thet!" burst out Larry Jaley.

"Oh, we know you," put in Dave. "We know just what sort of a bunch you are."

"Porter, do you include me in that remark?" demanded Job Haskers, drawing himself up as had been his fashion when an instructor at Oak Hall.

"I certainly do," replied Dave.

"You are impertinent!"

"It won't do you any good to act in that way, Job Haskers," returned our hero. "We know you for the rascal that you are. You committed a crime at Oak Hall, and you did what you could to swindle Mr. Fordham. It's useless for you to deny it. Now, let me say this: If you and those with you try to do the Morrs out of their property here, we'll do all we can to put you and Link Merwell in prison for your crimes. And more than that, we'll do what we can to have those men arrested, for that land swindle they tried to pull off when Abe Blower blocked them, and for stealing our horses."

"You—you——" stammered the former teacher, and for the moment knew not what to say.

"Don't you call us hoss-thieves!" burst out Sol Blugg, savagely.

"I can and I will," replied Dave, firmly. "Your crowd tried to take our horses, and the fellow called Staver got shot doing it. I guess that is why he isn't with you now."

"Bah! I won't talk with you," growled Sol Blugg. He knew not what else to say.

"I—I will—will settle with you for this another time," came tartly from Job Haskers.

"Oh, come on, what's the use of talking to them?" growled Link Merwell. "Some day I'll show them what I can do!" And he moved on along the ledge.

"Some day I shall square up for this gross insult!" stormed Job Haskers, and then he followed Merwell, and Blugg and Jaley came behind them. Soon a turn in the ledge hid them from view of our friends.

"What nerve!" burst out Phil.

"That proves they are after the mine," came from Dave.

"Yes, and if they locate it they will try to prove that it wasn't my uncle's mine at all!" burst out Roger, bitterly. "I suppose they'll destroy all the landmarks—that is, if the landslide left any of them standing—and then what will I be able to do?"

"I think we had better go back and tell the others of this," said Dave. "After this, it may pay us to keep an eye on that other crowd."

"That's so," returned the senator's son.

With care the three chums retraced their steps, and half an hour later found them with Tom Dillon and Abe Blower. The two old miners listened with close attention to the tale of their encounter with the other party.

"You are right; we must watch 'em," said Tom Dillon. "They are a bad lot and will do what they can to make trouble for us, and keep us from locating the lost mine."

"I wonder where they are camping?" said Phil.

"It can't be very far from here," replied Dave. "We can look for their campfire to-night, if you wish."

"If they don't hide it," remarked Abe Blower. "And by that same token, wouldn't it be a good idee to hide our own fire?" he continued, turning to Tom Dillon.

"Sure!" was the prompt answer.

That night the three boys climbed several tall rocks in the vicinity of their camp and looked around with care. But the only lights that they could make out were miles away, and those Abe Blower stated were on the distant railroad. Nothing like a campfire came to view.

"They are foxy and have put it in a hollow," said the old miner. "Wall, we've done the same thing," he added, chuckling.

"Oh, if only we could locate that lost mine and put up our stakes!" sighed Roger. "But it looks like next to a hopeless task, doesn't it, Dave."

"Oh, I don't know, Roger," answered our hero, as cheerfully as possible, for he saw that his chum was much downcast. "We haven't covered the whole of the ground yet. I wouldn't give up hope, if I were you."

"I didn't think it was going to be such a job when we started," went on the senator's son. "My, what rocks we have climbed over!" And he rubbed a shin from which some skin had been scraped that afternoon.

"I knew it would be a hard hunt," answered our hero. "And why not? If it was an easy matter to locate that lost mine, Abe Blower or some of those old prospectors would have done it long ago. If we do the trick I think it will be a great feather in our cap—in fact, I think it will be more of a lucky accident than anything else."

"Just my way of looking at it," agreed Phil. "It's a regular hide-and-seek game, this locating a mine among these rocks."

For a long time the three boys sat by themselves, talking about days at Oak Hall, and about the folks left at home and about those now traveling through Yellowstone Park. It seemed a long time since they had received letters.

"I suppose there are letters at the hotel in Butte," said Dave, with a little sigh.

"I'd give something to have them here," added Phil.

"If only I knew how dad was making out," murmured the senator's son. "I suppose he is waiting every day to hear from me!"

"I hope the folks in the Park are having a good time," said Dave, after a pause. "I suppose the main body of tourists have started for home by now."

"Yes, they went yesterday, according to the advertised plan," answered Phil.

"I've got an idea," said our hero, after another pause. "Do you see that hollow just below here? Well, we haven't looked around that much. Why not try it to-morrow?"

"Abe Blower and Mr. Dillon both seem to think the opening to the mine was above that, Dave," said Roger.

"True, but the landslide changed things, remember. We may now find an opening down there,—not the opening your uncle made, but another, made by the slide."

"It won't do any harm to look down there. While we are here I am going to look in every spot I can reach."

"Sure thing!" cried Phil. "But say, if we are going to climb around these rocks all day to-morrow I am going to bed and get a good night's rest."

"I guess we all need a rest, so we'll turn in at once," answered Roger.

Their camp was located between the rocks and not far from the trail by which they had come to the vicinity. The horses were tethered at a point where a patch of coarse undergrowth gave them something to nibble at. The animals were of no use to them, now they were in the district where the lost mine was supposed to be located.

It was a little after nine o'clock when the boys turned in, and a few minutes later the two old miners followed them. So far they had not deemed it necessary to have a guard, for none of their enemies nor wild beasts had come to annoy them.

Roger and Phil were soon sound asleep, and it was not long before their snoring told that Abe Blower and Tom Dillon were likewise in the land of dreams. But Dave, for some reason he could not explain, was restless, and he turned over several times, sighing heavily.

"If I were at home I should say I had eaten too much supper," he told himself. "But here rations are too scarce. I don't know what keeps me awake, unless it is that I'm too tired to go to sleep."

The campfire had burned so low that the spot was almost in total darkness. There was no moon and only a few stars shone in the sky, which was partly obscured by clouds. A gentle breeze was stirring, but otherwise all was quiet.

At last Dave thought that if he had a drink he might go to sleep with more ease, and he turned over to sit up and get to his feet. A bucket of water was close at hand, so he would not have to go far for what he wanted.

Just as Dave sat up he saw something that startled him. A dark figure was moving at a distance from the camp, coming closer slowly.

At first the youth could not make out if the figure was a man or an animal. He strained his eyes and then made out the form of a person.

At once our hero thought of Link Merwell and those with him. It must be one of their enemies, and if so, what had brought him to this spot at such an hour of the night?

"Maybe he is after our horses," reasoned the youth, and then he dropped down again and rolled over to where Roger was lying. He shook his chum and at the same time placed a hand over the other's mouth.

"Roger! Don't make any noise!" he whispered. "Somebody is coming here in the dark."

The senator's son awoke and heard what was said. Then, as Dave took away his hand, he whispered:

"Where is he? Who is it?"

"There he is," and Dave pointed with his hand. "I don't know who it is, but I guess it is one of Link's crowd."

"I'll wake up Phil, and we can watch the rascal," said Roger, and this was done, although not without difficulty, for the shipowner's son was inclined to give a yell when aroused from such a sound slumber.

"Who—who is it?" he stammered. "Say, maybe we had better get our pistols ready!" And he felt for his weapon.

"I've got mine all ready," answered Dave.

"And here is mine," whispered Roger. "If that fellow thinks he is coming here unseen, won't he be surprised!"

"Hush!" came softly from Dave. "Look behind him! There is a second fellow coming!"

Our hero was right, a second figure had emerged from the shadow of some rocks. The two persons were coming along slowly, as if to make certain that they were not being observed.

"I know that second fellow!" whispered Dave, a moment later. "See how tall and thin he is. It's old Haskers!"

"Yes, and the other fellow is Link Merwell," replied Roger, a second later.



CHAPTER XXVII

THE TWO PRISONERS

The three chums were right; the two persons who were approaching the camp on the mountainside so stealthily were Link Merwell and Job Haskers.

They came on step by step, looking ahead and to either side, as if on the alert to flee at the first sign of danger.

"What do you suppose they are after?" asked Phil, in a low voice.

"Hush! We'll watch them and see," returned Dave.

"Let us pretend to be asleep," advised Roger. "But lie so you can keep an eye on them."

The boys had been crouching low, but now all followed the advice of the senator's son and fell back, as if in slumber. Then they rolled over and, with their hands on their weapons, watched the approach of the others.

At last Merwell and Haskers were within fifty feet of those around the dying campfire. They had been talking in a low voice, but now both were silent, as if this had been agreed upon. Merwell was slightly in advance and he pointed to the outfit of the Morr crowd. This lay between some rocks and covered with a rubber cloth, so that the eatables might not be spoiled by the weather.

Job Haskers nodded, to show that he understood, and both of the intruders tiptoed their way towards the stores. Noiselessly they raised the rubber cover and placed it on the ground. Then both commenced to pack the stores in the cloth.

It was plainly to be seen now what the rascals meant to do. They were going to make off with our friends' stores, thereby perhaps making it necessary for them to give up the hunt for the mine and go back to the nearest place where more stores could be procured. For among those barren rocks but little could be found for the mine-hunters to eat. They might get a shot at some wild beast, but that was all.

"What shall we do?" whispered Phil, who was growing impatient watching proceedings.

"When I give the signal, jump up and cover them with your pistols," replied Roger.

"Oh, I wouldn't shoot them," urged Dave, who dreaded to think of bloodshed under any circumstances.

"Well, we'll scare 'em," returned the senator's son. "We'll teach 'em that they can't come near this camp."

He waited until Merwell and Haskers were on the point of lifting the rubber cloth with the stores tied within it. Then he leaped up, and Dave and Phil did the same.

"Hands up, you rascals!" cried Roger. "Hands up, or we'll fire at you!"

"Oh!" cried Link Merwell, in consternation, and up went his hands.

"Don't shoot me! I beg of you, don't shoot!" screamed Job Haskers, and he, too, dropped his hold of the bundle and sent his hands in the air. Then, catching sight of the pistols, he dropped on his knees. "Oh, Morr, please don't shoot! Porter, I beg of you, have mercy! And you, Lawrence, please point that weapon away! It—it might go off!"

"This is a fine piece of business to be engaged in," said Roger, sternly. "Trying to steal our stores."

"It—is—was—er—all a mistake," whined the former teacher of Oak Hall.

"You won't dare to shoot," put in Link Merwell. "You won't dare!" He tried to be brave but his voice was shaky.

"What's the row here?" burst in another voice, and Abe Blower sprang up, followed by Tom Dillon.

"Hello, them two skunks!" cried Tom Dillon. "What do they want?"

"They wanted to make off with our stores," answered Dave, and pointed to the goods tied up in the rubber cloth.

"So that's the trick, eh?" bellowed Abe Blower.

"First the hosses an' now the stores!" roared Tom Dillon. "Humph! Ye deserve to be shot full o' holes!" he went on, for he had lived in the times when the stealing of a horse, or of a miner's food, was considered by everybody a capital offense.

"I—I beg of you, have mercy!" cried Job Haskers, as he got unsteadily to his feet. "I—I—this was not my plan at all—Merwell suggested it. We—we were not going to—er—to steal anything."

"No? Then wot was ye goin' ter do?" demanded Abe Blower, sarcastically.

"We were—er—only going to hide the stuff," stammered Link Merwell, and he glared at Job Haskers savagely for having tried to place the responsibility of the raid on his shoulders.

"I don't believe a word of it!" came sternly from Tom Dillon. "You wanted to leave us to starve here, or compel us to go back to town—so you could hunt for that lost mine alone. I see through the trick. We ought to shoot you down like dogs!"

"It's jest wot they deserve, consarn 'em," muttered Abe Blower.

"We don't want anybody shot!" said Dave, to his chums. He saw that the two old miners were angry enough to do almost anything.

"Let us—er—go this time and we'll never bother you again," pleaded Job Haskers. He was so scared he could scarcely speak.

"Step over here, by this rock, and keep your hands up," said Tom Dillon. "We'll talk this over a bit further."

There was no help for it, for Merwell and Haskers were now virtually prisoners. They stepped to the position mentioned, with their hands still upraised.

"Go through 'em, Abe," went on Tom Dillon. "Take their shootin' irons away from 'em."

"See here——" commenced Merwell, when a stern look from the old miner stopped him. Haskers said nothing, for he was still fearful of being shot.

In a few minutes the two intruders were disarmed by Abe Blower. While this was being done Roger whispered to Dave.

"Don't you think we ought to search 'em thoroughly?" he asked. "They may have something belonging to me—some map of the lost mine, or something like that? I don't exactly remember what I had in that suit-case Merwell got from the porter on the train."

"Certainly, we'll have them well searched," declared Dave, and spoke to Tom Dillon about it. As a consequence, despite their protests, Abe Blower turned out every pocket of the prisoners.

"There is one of my letters!" cried Roger. "It tells about the Landslide Mine. I had forgotten it," and he put the communication in his pocket.

But little else of value belonging to Roger was found, and their own things the prisoners were allowed to retain, all but their weapons. Those, even to their pocket-knives, Tom Dillon confiscated.

"What are you going to do with us?" asked Link Merwell, surlily, after the search was at an end.

"We'll tie 'em up for the night," said Tom Dillon. "Boys, get a couple of ropes."

"Tie us up!" exclaimed Job Haskers, in new alarm.

"Exactly."

"And in the—er—morning——?" faltered the former teacher of Oak Hall.

"We'll see what we'll do with you after breakfast," answered the old miner, briefly.

"Say, wot did ye do with them other fellers?" demanded Abe Blower, while Dave and Phil were getting the ropes.

"We left them in camp."

"Is Staver with 'em?" asked Tom Dillon.

"No, his hand hurt him so he went back to town to have a doctor look after it," replied Merwell.

"Is he coming back here?"

"He said he thought not—at least, not for the present."

"Do you think those others will come here to-night?" asked Dave, as he came with a rope, followed by Phil with another rope.

"We'll stand guard, lad, and see," answered Tom Dillon.

Much against their will, Link Merwell and Job Haskers were bound, hands and feet. Then each was made fast to a rock not far from the campfire.

"We'll take turns at guarding the camp," said Tom Dillon. "Two hours each every night after this;" and so it was arranged.

Now that he was sure he was not to be shot, Job Haskers was very indignant over being bound.

"It isn't a bit gentlemanly," he said, to Dave.

"We won't argue the point," returned our hero, briefly. He was disgusted with both Merwell and Haskers, and he wished they might both go away and that he would never see them again.

As he was so restless, Dave said he would be the first one of the party to stand guard, and, accordingly, the others turned in as before, dropping off to sleep one after another. Merwell was inclined to talk and argue, but Dave would not listen.

"I am done with you, Link," he said. "And I am done with Haskers, too. All I want you to do is to leave me alone in the future."

"You let us go, or it will be the worse for you," growled Link Merwell.

When his two hours' guard duty came to an end, Dave called Roger, who in turn called Phil. The shipowner's son was still very sleepy, and he yawned deeply as he arose.

"As soon as two hours are up you call Abe Blower," said Roger.

"I sure will!" declared Phil. "I'm not half slept out yet!"

Roger was tired himself and was soon in the land of dreams. Phil walked around the camp several times, to keep himself awake, and then sat down on a rock to rest.

Alas! that rest was an ill-advised one for the son of the rich shipowner. As he sat there, Phil's chin sank lower and lower on his breast and presently his eyes closed and he fell asleep! And thus over two hours passed.

"Hello!"

The cry came from Abe Blower, as he turned and sat up. It was growing light in the east and the old miner thought it was time to get up.

He directed his cry at Phil, who was huddled up on the rock. Phil did not budge, and the old miner leaped up and shook him.

"I say——" commenced the youth, and then stared around him in astonishment. "Why I—I must have dropped asleep!" he faltered.

"You sure did!" cried Abe Blower. He gazed around swiftly. "Was you on guard?"

"Yes, and the prisoners——"

"Are gone!"

"Oh!"

Phil's cry awoke all the others in the camp. One after another looked at the youth and then at the spot where Merwell and Haskers had been tied to the rocks. The ropes lay there, but the two former prisoners had vanished!



CHAPTER XXVIII

THE LOST LANDSLIDE MINE

"They cut the ropes! See, here is where it was done, on this jagged rock!"

As Dave spoke he pointed to a sharp edge of stone. Beneath it were bits of rope, showing how the fetters had been sawed in twain.

"One of 'em must have got loose and then freed the other," remarked Roger.

"But who was on guard?" demanded Tom Dillon, sharply. He looked at the boys and then at Abe Blower.

"I was, but I—I guess I fell asleep," faltered Phil, sheepishly, and grew red in the face.

"Fell asleep!" cried Abe Blower. "I guess you did!" And his tone of voice showed his disgust.

"I—I am awfully sorry," continued the shipowner's son. "I—I really don't know how it happened. It wasn't the thing to do."

"Never mind, it's done and that's the end of it," put in Roger, quickly, for he could see how badly his chum felt over the occurrence. "I guess you were pretty tired."

"I was, Roger. Just the same, I had no business to fall asleep. I'm mad enough to kick myself full of holes," went on Phil, grimly.

"Let us see if they took anything with 'em," came from Tom Dillon, as he turned to where their things and the animals were, but they had not been disturbed.

"I guess they were too scared to touch anything," declared Dave. "They were glad enough to save themselves. I imagine they ran away as soon as they were free." And in this surmise our hero was correct. Link had been the one to sever his bonds and he had untied Job Haskers, and then both of them had lost not an instant in quitting the locality, being afraid that some of the others might awaken before they could make good their escape.

"Well, I am just as well satisfied," whispered Roger to Dave and Phil. "I didn't want to hold them, anyway. All I want them to do is to leave us alone."

"But you don't want them to discover the lost mine, Roger," returned our hero.

"Oh, certainly not! We'll have to keep on the watch for them as well as look for the mine," answered the senator's son.

A search was made, and it was soon ascertained that their enemies were nowhere in that vicinity. Then breakfast was had, and a little later the search for the lost Landslide Mine was continued.

As before, the different members of the party separated, and thus the day went by. Several times one or another of the boys or the men thought he had found some landmark, but each time the clew proved a false one.

"It looks as if we were going to be stumped,—just as those other searching parties were stumped," remarked Roger, dismally. "Maybe the lost mine will remain lost forever!" and he sighed deeply.

"Oh, I wouldn't give up yet!" cried Dave, cheerfully. "We have still some more ground to cover."

"Of course, we have," said Phil. "Oh, we are going to find that mine, no two ways about it!"

"I hope so," and Roger sighed again. He felt that if the mine was not found, matters would look pretty blue at home for all concerned.

The following morning dawned bright and clear, with no warning at all of what was in store. An early breakfast was had, and once more all hands separated in the hunt for landmarks which might guide them to the lost mine.

Dave was working his way along a small ridge of outcropping rocks, when he came to one rock that stood out much higher than the rest. From this point he gazed around, to see if he could locate any of the others of the party.

As a distance he made out Roger and Phil, who had just come together. Then, turning around, he glanced below him and made out several other persons on a lower ridge of the mountainside.

"Link Merwell and Job Haskers, and that Sol Blugg is with them," he murmured. "Evidently they are not going to give up the hunt."

Dave watched the party of three for several minutes and then continued his own hunt. Roger and Phil had now disappeared from view, and Abe Blower and Tom Dillon were far away,—almost to the top of the mountain.

A quarter of an hour passed and Dave discovered something which he considered worth investigating. Just above his head was an opening between the rocks,—an irregular slit fifteen or twenty feet high and two to four feet wide.

He had seen many openings before, but this was peculiar for the reason that one edge of the rocks looked as if it had been drilled and blasted away. More than this, within the split lay the broken-off handle of a shovel.

"Oh, what if I have found the lost mine!" he thought. "That shovel-handle proves that somebody has been here, and, yes, that is where somebody bored into the rocks and set off a blast! I must investigate this, and if it looks promising I'll call the others. No use in exciting Roger unless it's worth while."

Dave climbed up to the split and peered within. All was so dark that he could see but little. Yet he made out what looked to be a fairly level bit of flooring and he swung himself to this, first, however, placing his handkerchief on a rock outside, for it had been agreed that if anybody went into any sort of opening he should leave something behind, so that the others, coming that way, might know where he was.

Each of the party had provided himself with a dry stick of wood, to use for a torch if one was required, and Dave now lit the stick he carried and swung it into a blaze. With this in hand he commenced an inspection of the opening he had discovered.

The cave, if such it can be called, proved to be long and narrow,—little more than a split in the rocks. At some points the roofing was out of sight. The flooring, too, was irregular, and our hero had to proceed with care, for pitfalls were numerous and he had no desire to tumble into one of these.

"This mountainside is a good deal like Cave Island," he muttered, as he advanced. "That was honeycombed with caves and so is this. No wonder they have landslides here. The ground and rocks are bound to settle, with so many openings to fill up."

He had gone forward about a hundred and fifty feet when he found the opening leading upward. Then of a sudden he gave a cry of wonder and delight.

Just ahead of him were a number of heavy timbers, such as are used for shoring in mines. And among the timbers lay a pick and a crowbar and the remains of a smashed lantern.

At that instant Dave remembered one thing that Roger had told him, which was that Maurice Harrison had always branded all of his tools with his initials. Eagerly, our hero caught up the pick and held the handle in the light of his torch. There, on the broad part of the pick's handle, were the initials:

M. H.

"It's the lost mine!" shouted the youth. "The lost mine as sure as fate! Oh, I must get out and tell Roger and the others of this!"

But then he hesitated. What if this should prove to be only some abandoned "prospect" and not the real mine at all?

"I'd better look around a little first and make sure," he reasoned. "If I can only find some of the gold Mr. Harrison spoke about, I'd be sure."

He looked at the lantern and the crowbar and saw that both contained the initials found on the pick. He placed the three articles in a heap, and then climbed over the broken timbers to the opening beyond. As he did this a current of pure, cold air struck him.

"There must be other openings to this cave or mine," he reasoned. "Otherwise it wouldn't be so well ventilated. Well, I'm glad to have the fresh air. Where is that gold? If this is really the mine I ought to see some of it in the rocks."

He walked along, throwing the light of his torch on the rocks as he did so. For several minutes he saw nothing that looked like gold, and his heart sank. But suddenly he gave a low whistle and in his excitement almost dropped his torch.

For in a crack of the rocks he had come across a small "pocket," as it is termed by miners. In the pocket lay a quantity of sand, and on top of this an irregular object about as large as a small hen's egg.

"A nugget! A nugget of gold!" cried Dave, as he rubbed it off and inspected it by the light of the torch. "A nugget of gold just as sure as sure can be! Oh, this must be the lost mine!"

In feverish haste he set his torch up in a crack of the rocks and commenced to scoop the sand from the pocket with his hands. Out came another nugget and then another, and then half a dozen, all about the size of hickory nuts. Then the pocket grew so deep and narrow he could not reach down into it. He took up the crowbar, and with it ascertained that the opening with the sand and nuggets was of unknown depth.

"It's the lost Landslide Mine!" said Dave to himself. "The lost mine beyond a doubt, and all this gold belongs to Mrs. Morr! Oh, won't Roger be glad when I tell him the glorious news!"

Gathering up the nuggets he had found, Dave placed them in his pocket to show to the others, and then started to leave the place.

As he did this, he heard a peculiar rumbling sound, coming from a distance. He stopped to listen, and the rumble grew louder and louder.

"What in the world can that be?" he asked himself. "Sounds like a train of cars rushing through a tunnel. I wonder——Oh!"

Dave stopped short, and it is no wonder that a sudden chill passed over him. The very rocks on which he was standing had begun to quake. Then from overhead several stones fell, one so close that it brushed his shoulder.

"It's an earthquake, or another landslide!" he gasped. "I must get out of this, or I'll be buried alive!"

And then, torch in hand, he started for the opening to the mine.

He had hardly covered half the distance to the outer air when there came another quaking, and more rocks fell, one hitting him on the arm. The torch was knocked from his hand and he tripped and fell. Then came a crash and a roar, and to Dave it seemed as if the end of the world had come. He was more than half-stunned, and he fell against a wall of rocks, wondering what would happen next.



CHAPTER XXIX

ANOTHER LANDSLIDE

It was another landslide, crashing and roaring down the side of the mountain, carrying rocks, dirt, and brushwood before it. The earth roared and shook, and it was said afterwards that the slide could be heard many miles away.

Down in the mine that he had but just discovered, Dave remained crouching against a wall of rock, murmuring a prayer for his safe deliverance from the peril that encompassed him. Every moment he expected would be his last—that those rocky walls would crash in on him and become his tomb. Roar followed roar, as the landslide continued and more rocks fell. Then the air around him seemed to be compressed, until he could scarcely breathe.

"Oh, if I were only out of this!" he thought, and at that moment he would have gladly given all he was worth to have been in the outer air once more.

Gradually the roaring and the quaking ceased, and Dave breathed a little more freely. He groped around in the darkness and managed to locate the fallen torch, which still glowed faintly. He swung it into a blaze with nervous energy.

Was the landslide at an end? Fervidly he prayed that it was. Torch in hand, he tried to make his way to the spot where he had entered the mine.

He soon found this impossible, for the reason that the passageway had shifted, and huge rocks blocked his way. Several times he tried to climb over the rocks, only to fall back helplessly. He cut his hands and broke his finger-nails, but this availed him nothing.

"But I've got to get out! I've got to!" he told himself, over and over again. "I can't stay here!" And then he tried to climb the rocks in front of him once more.

It was hard work, especially with the torch in hand. Once Dave tried to carry the torch between his teeth, but it was too short, and his face was scorched, while the smoke almost strangled him.

Suddenly he slipped on some wet rocks and went down and down, he knew not whither. He was stunned by the fall, and the precious light slid from his grasp and rolled several yards away.

"Oh!" he murmured as he gathered his scattered senses and arose slowly to his feet. Then he saw that the torch was on the point of going out and he made a dash for it, and swung it once again into a faint blaze.

As he stepped around he noticed something else that added to his dismay. In his fall he had twisted his left ankle, which gave a twitch that made him shut his teeth hard, to keep from crying out with pain.

"Oh, I hope I haven't broken it!" he muttered. "However am I going to walk on it, even if it is broken?"

In sheer desperation he commenced to climb up the wet rocks down which he had tumbled. The ankle hurt not a little, yet in his excitement the youth scarcely noticed the pain. His one thought was to get out of the cave before another landslide or earthquake occurred.

A few minutes later found Dave on the level from which he had fallen. As he scrambled over the rocks something caught the glare of the torchlight. The youth picked up the object.

"Another nugget!" he told himself. "The place must be full of them!"

But what good would these nuggets be to him or his friends if he could not get out of the mine-cave? He was deep underground and this new landslide or earthquake might bury him and the contents of the mine forever!

"I've got to get out!" he repeated over and over again. "I've got to get out somehow!"

Trying to pierce the gloom ahead, Dave swung his torch behind him. Was he mistaken, or was that a glimmer of daylight in the distance? He stumbled forward, over some loose stones, and presently came to a split in the narrow passageway.

From overhead came a faint ray of daylight! He almost felt like giving a shout of joy, so welcome was the sight. But then his heart sank once more as he realized that the thin shaft of light came from a split in some rocks which were fifty or sixty feet above his head. The walls were so steep and slippery that to scale them was utterly out of the question.

In front of Dave was now a solid wall of rock, so the youth knew that he could not get out in that direction. With a heavy heart he retraced his steps, trying to locate the opening by which he had entered the cave. But the landslide, or earthquake, had changed the surroundings to such an extent that he hardly knew how to turn to make the next move.

A youth less stout of heart than Dave might have sat down and given up the case as hopeless. But our hero was not made of such stuff. He moved on slowly, in one direction and then another, trying out what looked as if they might be passages to the outer air.

And then came another distant rumble, showing that the earthquake, or landslide, was not yet at an end. The boy held his breath, wondering if it would come closer and annihilate him. But the rumble remained at a distance, and in less than a minute passed away completely.

"Thank fortune, that didn't come here!" he murmured, and passed his hand over his forehead, upon which the thick beads of cold perspiration had gathered. He strained his ears for several seconds longer, but all around him was now as silent as a tomb.

"Oh, I must get out!" he muttered, despairingly. "I must! There must be some kind of an opening somewhere!"

Again he stumbled onward, into one passageway after another. Once the place was so narrow that he became fairly wedged fast and had all he could do to draw back. Then a sudden chill swept through his body, making his teeth chatter.

Must he give up? Was that cave to become his tomb?

The thought forced itself upon Dave in spite of his effort to take a more cheerful view of the situation. He was hemmed in—not an avenue of escape seemed open.

"I won't give up! I won't! I won't!" he muttered, half savagely, and got up from the rock on which he had sunk down to rest. Climbing around in that place where the footing was so uncertain had taken both his wind and his strength, and he was panting, and his knees shook beneath him. Only a short time had elapsed since that dreadful first shock had come, yet to the youth it seemed an age.

He looked at the torch. It had burned well down and would not last much longer. And when it was gone he would be left in total darkness!

This was a new cause for fear, and it made Dave move around faster than ever.

Suddenly he stopped short. A new sound had reached his ears—a strange, weird sound that made his flesh creep and his hair stand on end.

It was the cry of a wildcat—shrill and uncanny in that pent-up space. Slowly it came nearer, although from what direction our hero could not at first make out.

He waited behind a spur of rocks and the cry—it was more a whine of fright than anything else—came closer. Then, on a shelf of rocks but a short distance away, Dave caught sight of the beast.

It was limping along on three feet, dragging a bleeding hind leg and a bleeding tail behind it. Evidently it had been caught between the falling stones as in a trap and had pulled itself loose in a mad effort to save its life.

For the moment Dave forgot his other perils as he faced the beast. Evidently the wildcat had scented the youth, for it gave a savage cry as of defiance. Perhaps it thought that Dave was responsible in some way for the pain it was suffering.

The youth's hand was on the rocks and almost unconsciously it closed on a sharp stone about as big as his fist. Raising the stone, he took quick aim and threw it at the wildcat.

As my old readers know, Dave was a good baseball player and, at Oak Hall, had often filled the pitcher's box with credit. He threw the stone with accuracy and vigor, and it landed fairly and squarely on the head of the wildcat.

There was a weird screech, and the beast whirled around and around on the rocks, coming closer and closer to our hero. Once it clawed savagely at Dave, but he shoved the creature off before any damage was done. Then it fell down in a cleft of some rocks, where it snapped and snarled until Dave sent down a heavy boulder on top of it, thus ending its misery.

"Phew!" gasped the youth, after the excitement was over. "That was almost as bad as when we shot the mountain lioness!"

He had dropped the end of his torch, but now picked it up once more and commenced to move around as before. He proceeded blindly, not knowing in what direction to turn to reach the outer air.

"Where can the others be?" was a question he asked himself more than once. Were they, too, caught underground, or had the awful landslide carried them down into the valley and buried them?

In the course of his climbings Dave presently came to a new turn, one which had before escaped his attention. This turn led upward and gave him fresh hope. But, just as he fancied that he was getting close to the outer air, he reached a flat wall, and further progress in that direction was out of the question.

His heart sank like lead in his bosom, and he walked slowly back to the point from which he had started. How to turn next he did not know.

Half an hour passed, and Dave was almost in despair. His torch had reached its end and was on the point of going out. Then, not knowing what else to do, he set up a cry for help.

There came no reply, and he cried again. Then he pulled out his pistol and fired a shot.

The discharge of the weapon echoed and reechoed throughout the cave and brought down several small stones. Then, to Dave's intense surprise and joy, an answering shot came back.

"Who is it?" he yelled. "I am here! This way! This way!"

"Hello!" was the long-drawn-out answer, coming from some point that appeared to be over his head. "Where—are—you?"

And then, as Dave's torch gave a final flicker and went out, our hero saw a shaft of light move over the rocks above his head.

"It's Roger's flashlight!" he told himself, and then he set up another cry.

The rays of the flashlight became stronger and of a sudden they shot downward, directly in Dave's face.

"It's Dave!" came in Roger's voice. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," was the ready reply. "That you, Roger?"

"Yes. Phil is with me."

"Were you hurt?"

"Shaken up a bit, that's all," replied Phil, and now Dave saw his chums standing in an opening that was about eight feet above his head.

"We had better get out of here," went on Roger, quickly. "Another landslide may bury us alive!"

"I've found the mine!" cried Dave. "I've got some nuggets from it—and a pick, a crowbar, and a broken lantern, all with your uncle's initials on them!"

"Good for you!" cried the senator's son. "Phil and I found some evidences of the mine up here—an old coat of my uncle's and some of his stakes. But we had better get out now—we can talk this thing over later."

"I can't get out down here—the passageway is blocked with rocks."

"Did you get in from below?" cried Phil. "We got in from up here."

A few words more passed, and the two boys on the upper ledge of rocks passed down a length of rope they carried, and by that means Dave was soon enabled to climb up and join them. There were no more quakes, so all began to breathe more freely. Yet they felt that it would be advisable to leave the cave-mine without delay.

"It certainly is the lost Landslide Mine!" exclaimed Roger. "Oh, how glad I am that it has been found! And how glad my folks will be to get the welcome news!" Even the peril of the present situation could not rob him of his joy over the discovery that had been made.

He and Phil had picked up several small nuggets, so that all were sure they had really discovered the lost mine.

"But they will have to be careful how they work this mine," said Dave, as he walked along with his chums. "They can't work it from below—it will be too dangerous."

"Oh, they'll find some way, don't fear," answered Roger. "As long as they know the gold is there, they'll find a way to get it."

"Where are the others?" went on Dave, as he saw daylight ahead, much to his satisfaction.

"That we don't know," answered Phil. "But we are hoping they are safe."

"By the way, did you see Merwell and Haskers?" cried Dave, suddenly.

"Why, no—not since they ran away from our camp," returned Roger.

"I saw them—just before I found this opening. They were below me, the two of them and Sol Blugg."

"Maybe they got caught," muttered Phil.

No more was said just then, for the boys had to do some climbing over several big rocks, and needed their breath. Then they made a turn, and a moment later came out into the sunlight.

"Oh, how good it seems to be out in the air once more!" murmured Dave.

"Thank heaven, none of us were killed," added Roger.

"No more underground exploring for me," avowed Phil. "More than once I thought we would be buried alive!"

"That is what I was afraid would happen to me," said Dave, seriously. "Yes, we can all thank heaven we are out of it."

"And now to hunt up Blower and Mr. Dillon," came from the senator's son.

"If only they are safe!" murmured Dave. For the time being those who had been on the mountainside below them were forgotten.

It was hard work to make their way from rock to rock. All the trails were gone, and they had to proceed with extreme care, for fear of dislodging some rock and rolling down into the valley with it.

"There they are!"

It was Dave who gave utterance to the cry, about half an hour later. He pointed to a distant spur, and there, sure enough, they beheld Abe Blower and Tom Dillon. The old miners had the horses with them.

"I wonder if they were hurt?" queried Phil.

"They seem to be all right," returned Roger. "I wish they would look this way."

"We'll have to signal to them," said Dave.

"How are you going to do it?" asked the shipowner's son. "You can't call to them at such a distance. They wouldn't hear you."

"We can give 'em a pistol shot, Phil."

"Why, to be sure! How foolish I was, not to think of it!"

"I'll fire a shot," said Roger, and brought out his weapon.

To the first shot there was no reply, but when a second was discharged both Abe Blower and Tom Dillon were seen to turn around. Then the boys commenced to wave their hands vigorously.

"They see us!" exclaimed Dave, half a minute later. They saw the two old miners wave their hands in return, and Abe Blower discharged his pistol.

"See, they are doing some kind of signalling!" cried Phil, a little later.

All watched with interest. They saw that Abe Blower had taken up a long bit of brushwood and was waving it in a circle to the northwestward.

"They want us to come around in that direction!" said Roger. "Don't you think so, Dave?"

"That's the way it strikes me," was our hero's reply. "See, what is left of the trail is in that direction. But, my! how the whole face of the mountain is changed!"

"Not much trail left!" grumbled Phil. "If we are not careful we'll break our necks reaching them!"

"We'll have to take it slowly," answered Dave.

The three youths set out, and they were glad to see the two miners do the same. The men were on horseback, and the other steeds came behind them.

As the boys had surmised, progress was difficult, and often they had to halt, not knowing how to proceed. Here and there they could see a small portion of a trail, but for the most part the way was new and exceedingly rough.

"If they ever do any mining here they'll have to spend a lot of time first building a roadway," was Phil's comment.

"If the mining pays it won't take long to get a roadway—and bridges, too," answered Roger. "Money can do almost anything, you know."

"Oh, I know that."

"The main thing will be to guard against the landslides," said Dave, grimly. "But I guess they'll know how to do that, too."

On went the boys, over the rough rocks and across patches of freshly turned up dirt. All were utterly worn out, yet not one of them complained.

"There they are!" cried Dave, some time after noon, as they made a turn around some rocks; and in a few minutes the friends were together once more.

"All safe?" asked Abe Blower, anxiously, and then, when assured that no harm had come to the boys, he added: "Mighty glad to know it!"

"So am I glad!" put in Tom Dillon, heartily. "It was sure some landslide! Almost as bad as the one that wiped out the mine!"

"We've got good news!" cried Roger. "We have relocated the lost mine! Dave did it!"

"You and Phil did it, too," said our hero, modestly.

"Wot! Have ye located the Landslide Mine?" roared Abe Blower.

"We sure have," returned Phil. "Look here!" And he brought out some of the nuggets he carried. And then Roger and Dave did the same.

"This is grand!" exclaimed Tom Dillon. "Nuggets, an' pretty big ones, too. But how do you know it's the mine?"

"We found some landmarks," answered Roger. "And my uncle's coat and a note-book——"

"And his pick, crowbar, and lantern," added Dave. And then the three boys told their story in detail.

"It must be the lost mine," said Abe Blower. "An' if it is, I congratulate ye!" And he shook hands all around. "Tom, they got ahead o' us," he added, with a grin.

"So they did," was the answer. "Well, I'd rather have it that way than have those other fellers locate the mine. By the way, I wonder how they fared in the landslide?" the old miner continued.

"Three of them, Merwell, Haskers, and Blugg, were below me," answered Dave. "They were over yonder," and he pointed with his hand.

"Wot! Down on thet ledge?" cried Abe Blower.

"Yes."

"Humph! Then I reckon it's all up with 'em," went on the old miner.

"What do you mean?" asked Roger.

"I mean it's likely they was wiped out," was the reply. "When the fust quake an' slide came I was lookin' down towards thet ledge. I saw some heavy rocks go down, and a big mass o' dirt, too, an' the ledge was buried out o' sight. If they was down thar, it's more'n likely they was buried alive!"

"Oh, I'd hate to think that!" cried Dave, with a shudder.

"Do you think the landslide is at an end?" asked Phil, anxiously.

"There is no tellin' about that, lad. We'll go up on the mountain, and to the safest place we can find, and then wait," said Tom Dillon.

This was done, and an hour later, worn out completely, all sat down to rest and to partake of lunch. They could look far along the mountainside and see just where the avalanche of rocks and dirt had swept downward, a portion halting here and there, and the remainder going clear to the valley far below.

They had been resting about an hour when they saw a figure approaching on foot. It was a man, hatless, and with half his clothes torn from his back. As he came closer they recognized Larry Jaley.

"Jaley, where are you going?" demanded Tom Dillon.

At the sound of the miner's voice the man halted and then threw up his hands. Then he staggered forward once more.

"Save me!" he yelled, wildly. "Save me! Don't shoot me! Save me from the landslide!" And then stumbling, he fell at the feet of Dave and his friends.

"Are you alone?" asked Abe Blower.

"Ye—yes! Save me! Oh, save me!" whined Jaley, and he turned a face full of fear on those before him.

"Where are Merwell and Haskers and Blugg?" asked Dave.

"All gone—swept away by the landslide!" was the whining reply. "Oh, it was awful! It smashed them all up—and smashed up the horses, too! Oh, save me! Save me!" And then Larry Jaley gave a gasp and fell in a heap, unable to say another word.



CHAPTER XXX

THE NEW CLAIM—CONCLUSION

"Poor fellow, he is scared stiff!" said Dave, as he bent over the shrinking man.

"I reckon the landslide made him about loony—thet an' seein' them others carried off to death," murmured Abe Blower.

"I wonder if they really were killed?" said Roger. "If it's true, what an awful death to die!"

"Men before now have been killed by landslides," said Tom Dillon. "And just remember, we ain't out of it ourselves, yet," he added, gravely.

Larry Jaley was cared for and given something to eat and to drink, and then he told his story. The landslide had come upon his whole crowd without warning and he had escaped by what was little short of a miracle. The sight had so weakened and sickened him that he had rushed away, not knowing in what direction, until he had come to our friends' camp.

"Jest help me to git off o' this mountain an' I won't never follow ye ag'in," he whined, to the miners and the boys. "Jest help me to git away, thet's all!"

"You can take your chances with the rest of us, Jaley," answered Tom Dillon, somewhat sternly. "And you mind how you behave yourself, too!" he added, by way of a warning.

By the following morning the scare was over, and the boys took Abe Blower and Tom Dillon into the upper entrance to the mine. Just a brief examination was made, but it was sufficient to prove to the old prospectors that the lads had really rediscovered the lost Landslide Mine. Then the old miners put up the proper stakes, as a new claim for Mrs. Morr.

In the meantime, Larry Jaley had been given some stores and told to go about his business. Abe Blower had directed him to a trail to the southward. This was a long way around, but the trail seemed to be perfectly safe, and Jaley was only too glad to take to it. It was the last the boys saw of the man.

"And now to get back to town and establish this claim," said Roger, some time later. "Won't my folks be pleased!" And his face showed his satisfaction.

"And then to get to Yellowstone Park for a good time!" returned Dave. "We'll have to wire the folks that we are coming."

The journey down the mountainside was by no means easy, and it took the party two days to get to a point where traveling on horseback was safe. When they came down they kept their eyes open for some sign of Merwell, Haskers, and Blugg, but all they found was a portion of the latter's camping outfit and the body of one of their horses.

"Poor chaps! They must be buried under tons and tons of earth and rocks!" murmured Dave.

"It certainly looks like it," answered Phil.

"What a fearful end!" said Roger, with a shudder.

The coming of our friends into Black Cat Camp created quite a stir, and many wanted to learn the particulars of the landslide. These were told in detail, but not a word was said about relocating the lost mine.

"The news will leak out soon enough," said Tom Dillon. "We want the cream of the chanct up there." It may be as well to state that he had located a claim for himself on one side of the Morr claim, and Abe Blower had located a claim on the other side.

As soon as the boys got back to Butte the claims were properly filed, and the lads lost no time in sending off half a dozen telegrams and letters. Then they took a good wash and changed their rough mining clothing for more presentable suits.

"And now for a first-class, six-course dinner!" cried Phil. "I say, doesn't it feel good to get back to civilization again!"

"It certainly does," answered Dave. "But I'll feel more at home when we join the folks in the Park."

"Huh! you're thinking of Jessie!" cried the shipowner's son, slyly, and at this "knock" Dave blushed deeply.

The boys had hardly eaten their dinner when there came a telegram from Senator Morr.

"Listen to this, boys!" cried Roger, and read the following:

"Good news received and we are much delighted. You boys are certainly wonders. Will await letter with interest."

"I wish I could have seen mother's face when dad read my message to her," went on the senator's son, wistfully. Later on he received a letter written by both his parents in which they told of the joy the news had brought. Later still, the newly-located mine was opened, under the directions of Abe Blower and Tom Dillon, and the three claims were thrown into one, a stock-company being formed for that purpose, with Senator Morr as president. Both Dave and Phil were given stock in the mining company, and it paid very well.

"Now, if only your father can hold his position," said Dave, to Roger, one day, "your folks will be well fixed."

"He is going to try to hold it, in spite of his political enemies," answered Roger. And this Senator Morr eventually did, being elected to another term at Washington.

It was a happy day for the three boys when they bade good-by to Abe Blower and Tom Dillon and left Butte to go to Yellowstone Park. The old miners were sorry to part with the lads.

"Never mind, we'll be back here some day!" cried Roger.

"Surest thing you know!" added Dave.

They had already sent word ahead as to what train they were taking, and when they arrived at Livingston they found Dunston Porter on hand to greet them. Then a quick run was made to Gardiner, and there all took a stage into the Park to the Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel.

"There they are! I see them!" cried Laura.

"Oh, look how sunburnt they are!" exclaimed Jessie, and then both girls made a wild dash from the hotel veranda to where the stage was stopping. In the meantime, Dave had jumped from the seat and soon he was shaking hands with Jessie and had kissed his sister. Then the others came up, and there was general rejoicing.

"We have been around the Park once, on a stage," said Laura.

"But we are going again, on horseback and to camp out!" declared Jessie.

"Fine!" cried Dave. "Couldn't be better!"

"And to think you found that mine!" cried Laura, to Roger. "Oh, how glad I was to hear it!"

"We were all glad!" put in Mrs. Wadsworth.

"And you shot a mountain lion!" cried Jessie. "Oh, Dave!" And she fairly beamed on the youth.

"I suppose you'll be after fresh adventures before long," said Dunston Porter, with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Maybe," answered Dave. "But I think I'll be content to stay here for a bit and take it easy," and he smiled openly at Jessie, who had to turn away to hide her blushes.

What next befell our hero will be related in another volume, to be entitled "Dave Porter at Bear Camp; or, The Wild Man of Mirror Lake." In that we shall learn the particulars of a queer mystery and what Dave did towards solving it.

It was certainly a happy gathering, and the boys were sorry that Ben and Shadow and some of the others were not there to enjoy it. But they had departed for the East with the others on the personally-conducted tour.

"You'll have to tell us the whole story from beginning to end," said Laura to her brother. "Jessie and Belle and I are just dying to hear every word of it."

"Poor Link Merwell!" sighed Belle Endicott. "I feel sorry for his folks!"

"Yes, what a fearful ending for Merwell and for Haskers, too!" murmured Laura.

"And so you will be rich after all, Roger!" cried Laura.

"Yes, and I am very thankful," returned the senator's son, and then he took a long walk with Laura, while Dave paired off with Jessie, and Phil went with Belle. The young friends had a great deal to tell each other, and nobody thought of disturbing them.

"Well, it certainly was some trip," said Phil, to Dunston Porter, Mrs. Wadsworth, and Belle. "And that landslide! Excuse me from falling in with one of those again!" And he shook his head gravely.

"You can be thankful you were not buried alive," said Mrs. Wadsworth. Belle said nothing, but she looked at Phil in a manner that warmed his heart.

That evening all of the party had a grand celebration at the hotel. Every one was in the best of spirits, and the boys fairly outdid themselves telling jokes and funny stories.

"I can tell you, it was a trip well worth taking," said Roger, when about to retire.

"So it was," declared our hero. And here we will leave Dave Porter and say good-by.

THE END



DAVE PORTER SERIES

By EDWARD STRATEMEYER

"Mr. Stratemeyer has seldom introduced a more popular hero than Dave Porter. He is a typical boy, manly, brave, always ready for a good time if it can be obtained in an honorable way."—Wisconsin, Milwaukee, Wis.

"Edward Stratemeyer's 'Dave Porter' has become exceedingly popular."—Boston Globe.

"Dave and his friends are nice, manly chaps."—Times-Democrat, New Orleans.

DAVE PORTER AT OAK HALL Or The School Days of an American Boy

DAVE PORTER IN THE SOUTH SEAS Or The Strange Cruise of the Stormy Petrel

DAVE PORTER'S RETURN TO SCHOOL Or Winning the Medal of Honor

DAVE PORTER IN THE FAR NORTH Or The Pluck of an American Schoolboy

DAVE PORTER AND HIS CLASSMATES Or For the Honor of Oak Hall

DAVE PORTER AT STAR RANCH Or The Cowboy's Secret

DAVE PORTER AND HIS RIVALS Or The Chums and Foes of Oak Hall

DAVE PORTER ON CAVE ISLAND Or A Schoolboy's Mysterious Mission

DAVE PORTER AND THE RUNAWAYS Or Last Days at Oak Hall

DAVE PORTER IN THE GOLD FIELDS Or The Search for the Landslide Mine

DAVE PORTER AT BEAR CAMP Or The Wild Man of Mirror Lake

DAVE PORTER AND HIS DOUBLE Or The Disappearance of the Basswood Fortune

DAVE PORTER'S GREAT SEARCH Or The Perils of a Young Civil Engineer

DAVE PORTER UNDER FIRE Or A Young Army Engineer in France

DAVE PORTER'S WAR HONORS Or At the Front with the Fighting Engineers

THE END