THE BURIED TREASURE STORY
Fred turned and walked toward the hotel, the old miner advancing to meet
him.
"Well," asked Mr. Gardner, "how'd you make out?"
"I didn't make out at all."
"Pshaw! That's too bad. What are you going to do now?"
"Go back home."
"I wish I could help you. Do you need work very much?"
"Well, I have to help support the house since my father met with that
accident."
"That's so. Shucks! Why ain't I rich? Then I could help my old friend."
"I don't think my father would take money that he or I did not earn."
"No, that's right, he wouldn't. But if I was rich I could give you a
job. As it is I can't do any more than offer to grub-stake you, or let
you come prospecting with me."
"Thank you very much for the offer, but I don't believe I could do it.
We need money right away, and I must earn it--somehow."
"But how are you going to?"
"That's what I don't know," and Fred spoke a little discouragedly. "I
must try some other camp, I suppose."
"Yes, I guess that's the only way. But say, won't you come in and have
some lunch with me? I'm just going to sit down."
"No, thank you. I must be getting home. I have quite a long walk."
"Oh, come on. It won't take long, and you'll feel all the better for
having eaten something. They don't set a very good table here. Everyone
is too busy thinking about gold mines, to care much about grub. I'd lend
you my elephant to get home on, only you can walk faster than he'll
carry you."
"Your elephant?"
"Yes, that's my latest name for the donkey."
"Oh, I understand."
"Come on in and have lunch," insisted the old miner again.
Fred did not need much urging. The truth was he was quite hungry, for he
had not eaten a hearty breakfast, and his lunch was not very
substantial. So he followed Mr. Gardner into the hotel, or what answered
for one, and soon they were seated at a rough table, where the food, if
not very dainty, was good, and there was enough of it.
"So your folks need money, do they?" asked Mr. Gardner when they were
drinking their coffee.
"Well, I fancy it would come in handy in 'most any family," answered
Fred with a smile.
"That's what it would. I could use a bit more myself. But I may strike
it rich here. If I don't, I may have a try for the Stults treasure. I
sure would, without stopping here, if I wasn't so old and stiff, and
wasn't afraid of the cold."
"The Stults treasure?" asked Fred. "What's that, and where is it? Is
there any chance of me getting a share?"
"I don't know. There might be," replied the miner, more seriously than
Fred thought he would answer, for, at first, the boy thought his
companion was joking.
"Is there really a treasure hidden around here, Mr. Gardner."
"Around here? No, only the gold in the mines, and that is hard to get
out. The Stults treasure, that I referred to, is many miles away."
"Where is it?"
"In Alaska."
"Alaska?"
"Yes, and the coldest part, too. I'll tell you what I know of it, but
don't hold me responsible."
"I'll not."
"Very well then. The story is more or less known, but I can't say as
much for the location of the treasure. Several have tried their hand at
locating it, but had to give it up.
"It appears that an old miner, named Max Stults, went to Alaska, in the
early days of the gold discoveries there, with a few companions. They
made their way up the Yukon river as far as where Circle City now is.
Then they went off into the mountains, for, it seems, the old man had a
curious dream that he would find gold in a certain place.
"His companions laughed at him, for it was outside the gold-bearing
region, and, finally, they all deserted him. Nothing more was heard of
Stults for a long time. One day, so the story goes, a man, half dead
from exposure, staggered into the camp, which was the beginning of what
is now Circle City.
"This man, who turned out to be Stults, told a strange story. He said he
had discovered a wonderful treasure of gold, in the bed of a river that
had changed its course. There were many big nuggets of the pure metal he
had picked up, he said."
"Why didn't he bring it with him?" asked Fred.
"He tried to, but he was attacked by a band of savage Alaskan Indians,
who tried to get the gold away from him. He had it in the mountains, and
managed to escape, coming to the camp for help."
"Did they give it to him?"
"They would have, but, unfortunately, just as they were setting out to
find the buried treasure, Stults died."
"And they never found the gold?"
"They never found it. Stults had a sort of map, showing the location of
it, but no one could make head or tail of that map after he was dead.
Several parties made the attempt, but they all failed. Some were frozen
to death, and others were driven from the country by the savage Indians.
So, up to the present time, no one has found the Stults treasure, as far
as I know."
"What became of the map?"
"Oh, that, and a few personal belongings of the old German gold hunter,
were sent to his widow. I heard that she raised money and sent out an
expedition after the gold, for she was familiar with her husband's
handwriting and understood what certain words on the map meant, which
was more than those who first saw it knew. But it fared no better than
the others. So the treasure must be there still. Now if you only had a
share of that, you and your folks wouldn't have to worry."
"No, indeed, but I guess the chances are very small for me finding that
gold, even if I could go to Alaska, which is impossible."
"Yes, I am afraid so. Still, when you grow up you may want to have a try
for it. I think Mrs. Stults is living yet, and, I understand, she has a
standing offer of half the treasure to whoever will find it."
"Is that so? Where does Mrs. Stults live?"
"The last I heard she was in Denville, California."
"Denville? Why that is not more than twenty-five miles from Piddock!"
exclaimed Fred, a sudden idea coming into his mind.
"So near as that? Well, why don't you go and see her, get a copy of the
map, and hunt for the gold?" and the old miner laughed as if it was a
joke.
"Maybe I will," replied Fred, in a curiously quiet voice, as he rose to
leave the dining-room of the hotel.