THE NEW MINE
The next day much excitement filled the ranch house. Betty declared that
she had not slept a wink the night before, worrying for fear her father
had not meant what he said.
But Mr. Nelson had meant what he had said, and there was Mrs. Nelson as
eager as the girls to keep him to his word.
"The ranch is mine, you know," she laughingly reminded the girls. "And
if there are gold mines on it I certainly intend to find them."
It was settled, and Mr. Nelson and Allen set out for town to make
arrangements for the enterprise. The girls wanted to go too, but Mr.
Nelson pointed out that he and Allen could probably do the work more
quickly if they were alone, and it was upon this point and this point
only that the girls consented to let them go.
"But that needn't keep us from the saddle," Mollie decided, as they
watched the two men canter swiftly away. "I don't know about the rest
of you, but I'm just longing for action."
"Ditto," cried Betty, then added with bright eagerness: "Girls, I know
what we can do! Let's go down to the place where Allen found those two
men last night. That's where the mines are, you know, and we might stake
out claims or something."
"Your mother might have something to say to that," said Grace, making a
funny face. "It isn't quite the thing to stake out claims on somebody
else's property."
"Oh well, you needn't be so particular," cried Betty airily. "Come on,
girls, who's with me?"
It seemed they all were, and, fairly dancing with excitement, they made
their way to the corrals where Andy Rawlinson saddled their horses for
them.
The horses seemed to catch some of the girls' excitement, and it was all
that the latter could do to hold the animals in.
"It must be in the air," laughed Grace, as she pulled in Nabob sharply.
"We've all got the gold fever."
"Let's give them their heads," said Mollie suddenly. "I'd like a regular
gallop this morning."
"All right, let's go," sang out Betty, and in another minute they were
off, the horses galloping like mad and the girls laughing and shouting
in utter abandonment to their high spirits.
At this rate it took them only a few minutes to reach the spot where
Allen had had his adventure the night before.
They reined in sharply, and Betty jumped down, throwing the reins over
Nigger's neck and giving him a fond little pat on the flank.
"There, old boy," she said. "Go and eat some grass for yourself while we
do a little prospecting. Girls," she added as they in turn dismounted
and ran up to her, "from Allen's description, it must have been just
about here that he stood." She indicated the bent tree with the great
bowlder behind it that Allen had described to them. "And the two men
must have stood in there among that heavy shrubbery somewhere."
"Then this is where they will begin work," cried Amy, a faint flush
warming her face. "Oh, Betty, it all seems like a fairy story."
"Fairy story, nothing!" exclaimed Mollie. "This is a real,
honest-to-goodness adventure story. My, it's a wonder Allen didn't get
shot up last night," she added thoughtfully. "It must have taken nerve
to stand here, listening to those old scoundrels and not knowing what
minute they might find him out and fire upon him."
"I think Allen is perfectly wonderful, anyway," said Grace, and Betty
thrilled at the tribute. "He never seems to know what it is to be
afraid. And he always gets what he wants, too."
"And to think that 'John Josephs' never existed!" chuckled Betty. "Peter
Levine must have quite a good deal of imagination."
"Well, what's the use of standing here?" said Amy, after a moment of
silent musing. "Let's look around a little bit and see what we can see."
So for a while they thrashed around in the bush, accomplishing very
little besides scaring some rabbits and woodchucks into their holes.
They found the tiny creek Peter Levine had spoken of, and they gazed
with interest at its muddy, sluggish water.
"Who would ever think there was gold in the bottom of that?" whispered
Mollie.
When they finally became convinced that there was nothing more to be
seen they started reluctantly home again.
"Let's go around by the mine and see how Meggy and her dad are coming
on," suggested Betty, and so they changed their course a little to
include the mine.
Meggy was glad to see them as usual but they could tell by the weariness
of her bearing that there was no good news as far as she was concerned
and they had not the heart to tell her their own.
"Can't you come over to the ranch for a little while?" asked Betty,
eager to do some little thing toward cheering the girl. But Meggy shook
her head.
"I can't leave father--even for a little while," she said sadly. "He
ain't feeling well, and I'm afraid if his luck doesn't change pretty
soon I--I--won't have any dad----" she choked and turned away. Betty was
beside her in a moment, her arm about the girl's shoulders.
"We're awfully sorry, honey," she said compassionately. "We didn't know
that your father was feeling bad. Is he--is he really sick?"
"Sick of life, I guess," said Meggy, conquering her emotion and
instantly ashamed of it. "I've heered of people dyin' of a broken heart,
an' that's what dad's doin', I guess. Bad luck can kill you if it keeps
up long enough."
The girls rode home saddened by this brief encounter. It seemed almost
wrong for them to be happy when Dan Higgins was "dyin' of a broken
heart" and Meggy, brave, splendid girl that she was, had almost lost
hope.
"If only everybody in the world could be happy," said Grace plaintively.
"It just spoils all your fun when you know that other people are
miserable."
"The worst of it is," said Betty soberly, "that with all this luck
coming our way we can't pass on a single little bit of it to that poor
girl and her dad. If only they weren't so proud----" The sentence
trailed off into a sigh, and she gazed pensively out over the plain.
"Well, there's no use of crying over it," said Mollie briskly. "We may
find a way of being useful to Meggy yet, and until then, as my mother
says, 'let's be canty with thinking about it.' Oh, look, girls, here
comes Allen. I wonder what kind of news he has."
They galloped gayly to meet him, and Allen thought they made a very
pretty picture as they swept up to him.
"Well," he said as they surrounded him, "everything is settled and they
are to begin work to-morrow morning. Our news has aroused great
excitement in town, and there's a rush to establish claims near that end
of our ranch. Better give your friend, Dan Higgins, a hint, so that he
can get in first. So long. I'm on to the house for the map, and then I'm
going to join Mr. Nelson again in town."
So he dashed off in the direction of the ranch and the girls wheeled and
galloped back in the direction they had come--back toward Dan Higgins'
mine to warn him to stake a new claim before others reached the spot.
They were so excited that it was hard to make their purpose clear at
first, but when the old man and Meggy comprehended what they were trying
to tell them, they were immediately galvanized to action.
"I'll show you the best place," Betty eagerly volunteered.
Mollie offered to stay behind and give the old man her horse, and in a
minute Betty and Dan Higgins were galloping over the plain to that part
of the ranch where the new gold mines were to be. They had not far to
go, and they saw with relief that they were the first on the spot.
Betty pointed out the place where Peter Levine had said there was gold
running wild, and old Dan Higgins staked his claim as near to the place
as he could without actually encroaching upon the ranch itself.
With trembling fingers he printed on two big placards the exact
dimensions of his claim, and, with Betty's help, nailed them to two
trees at the two extreme ends of his new property, and began to dig.
"Thar," he sighed, after a few moments, taking off his hat to mop the
perspiration from his forehead, "I've made another bargain with luck,
an' mebbe this time I'll win."
"I'm sure you will," cried Betty, with conviction. "If there is gold on
our ranch, and we are sure there is, then there is almost certain to be
some on your property also. Oh, Mr. Dan Higgins, I so dearly hope that
there is!" This was so evidently a cry straight from her earnest young
heart that the keen eyes of the hardened old miner filled with tears and
he patted Betty's head with an unsteady hand.
"You're a mighty fine little gal," he said finally. "Ef an old man's
gratitude means anything to you, you sure have got it. I've a sort of
sure feelin' you've changed the luck for Meggy and me."
They were silent on the ride back to the mine, but as they reached the
last stretch of the trail that led down to it the old man shifted in his
saddle and looked at Betty earnestly.
"An' ef Meggy's mother was alive," he said simply, "she would thank you,
too."