THE OLD GOLD HUNTER
Fred thought the hour would never arrive when he might again call on
Mrs. Stults. But, of course, it came around in due course, and he was
there on time. He found the widow seated in her parlor, with a bundle of
papers on a table near her, and a man sitting in a chair by a window.
"Here is dot Fred boy, vot I tell you about," said Mrs. Stults to the
man.
"Ah, yes. He seems quite young to undertake such work as hunting for the
lost treasure."
"Dot's vot I tells him."
"I'll grow older," remarked Fred, with a smile, "and I am used to hard
work and exposure. I have done considerable camping out."
"Yes, but not in such a cold country as Alaska, young man."
"No, sir, but I expect to prepare for it."
"Dis is mine lawyer," explained Mrs. Stults, "Mr. Ackerman. He vill make
out der papers."
"Mrs. Stults has told me what you want to do," went on Mr. Ackerman. "I
see no objection to it, provided you can get your father or some other
men interested. I have drawn up an agreement by which you are required
to give Mrs. Stults half the gold you discover."
"I am willing to do that."
"Then if you will sign it, I will give you a copy of the map, and such
directions as the late Mr. Stults left. I must warn you that they are
not very clear, and, even with the aid of the map, many men have tried
to find the gold, but have failed."
"I may fail also," admitted Fred, "but I am going to try."
"That is the right spirit. I wish you all success."
The papers were signed, a duplicate being given Fred. Mrs. Stults
affixed her name, the lawyer put his down as a witness, and Fred
received a copy of the map, and some directions how to find the gold. He
glanced over the latter, and had to admit that they were rather vague.
He hoped, however, when he was on the scene, to make them available.
"I'll let you know when we start, Mrs. Stults," he said. "I can't tell
how soon I can get some men interested."
"Oh, dot's all right," replied the German widow. "It don't make so much
difference ven you vos start, as it does ven you comes back. Dot's vot
I vant to know--ven you comes back, mit der gold."
"Yes, that is the main part," added the lawyer. "Mrs. Stults has allowed
several persons to hunt for the gold, but, so far, not one has come
anywhere near finding it."
"Maybe I'll have better luck," said Fred, as he bade the lawyer and the
widow good-by, and took his departure for home.
He had been more successful than he dared to hope, in getting the map,
and his first thought was that he would use what little remaining money
he had, and ride as far on the railroad as it would take him. He wanted
to get home quickly with the news.
Then he reflected that there was no special hurry; that it would take
some little time to organize an expedition, and he would need all the
money he had. So he decided to walk back, taking his time, so as to
arrive in good condition.
But, unconsciously, perhaps, the thought of the treasure and the fact
that he was now in a position to start after it, quickened his steps,
and he made the return trip in much less time than he had spent on the
first half of his journey.
"Well, Fred!" exclaimed his father, as his son entered the house, "we
didn't expect you until to-morrow. I suppose you couldn't reach any
agreement with the widow, and had to come back."
"No, dad, I was successful."
"You don't mean to say she gave you the map?"
"Not exactly the map, but a copy of it, which is just as good."
"And permission to hunt for the treasure?"
"Yes, dad."
"Oh, Fred! Are you going off to that terrible cold country?" asked his
mother, who came into the room just then, and heard the closing part of
the conversation.
"Well, mother, don't you think it's worth trying for? Think of getting
thousands of dollars in gold!"
"Yes, but it wouldn't make up for being frozen to death."
"No, mother--but I don't expect to freeze to death. We will take
fur-lined clothes along."
"Where are you going to get them? I used to have a fur-lined cloak once,
but the moths ate it up."
"I'm afraid it would hardly have answered, if you had it now, mother.
But of course that's a part I've got to talk over with father--about
fitting out the expedition."
"And I'm afraid you'll have trouble," remarked Mr. Stanley. "Oh, if I
was only well and strong I'd ask nothing better than to go along!"
His words caused a little feeling of sadness, but it soon passed away,
and Fred's father and mother listened with interest to his account of
the trip to Denville.
"Now, father, what would you advise me to do?" asked Fred, when he had
concluded. "We need to get some man, who has money, interested in this
venture, for it will cost something to fit out the expedition. Do you
know of any one among your acquaintances, who would take the risk?"
Mr. Stanley was silent for several seconds. He was in deep thought. Then
he suddenly exclaimed:
"Fred! I believe I know the very man."
"Who, dad?"
"Simon Baxter. He is an old gold hunter, as well as a miner. He has gone
on several expeditions of this kind, and he has traveled in the far
north. He would be the very man."
"Is he well off?"
"Yes, he is quite rich."
"Do you think he would go; and provide the money?"
"Ah, that is another question. But it would do no harm to see him, and
find out. He lives about five miles from here, with his son Jerry, who
is about your age, Fred."
"Perhaps Jerry would go along. Then he and I could have a good time
together."
"He might. He is a strong, hearty lad, about your build. I will write a
letter to Mr. Baxter, and you can take it to him. You were so
successful with the widow Stults, where I did not think you would be,
that, perhaps, you can prevail on this old gold hunter to finance the
expedition. He and I are old friends, though I have not seen him in some
time."
"Write the letter at once, dad, and I'll take it to him."
"Aren't you tired, after your long tramp?"
"No. Besides, I am so anxious that I can't rest."
"Very well. I'll write the letter at once."
After dinner Fred started out, this time on a shorter journey, bearing a
letter to Mr. Baxter, explaining matters.
Fred found the old gold hunter in his garden, pulling weeds from an
onion patch.
"Well?" he asked, as Fred came up the walk.
"Here is a letter for you, Mr. Baxter."
The old miner read it through slowly. Then he started on it a second
time. Finally, when he had again gotten to the end, he asked:
"Are you Fred Stanley?"
"I am, sir."
"And you want me to leave my quiet life here, let my garden all grow up
to weeds, and go chasing off to Alaska after a lot of gold that we'll
probably never find."
"We might find it; and, as for the garden, isn't there some one you can
leave in charge?"
"Nobody knows how to take care of my garden but myself," said the man.
"Especially my onion bed. I'm very fond of onions. Are you?"
"No, sir, I don't like them."
"Great mistake! Great mistake! Everyone ought to eat onions. They're the
healthiest vegetable that grows. Guess I'll have one now," and he pulled
a green one from the ground, wiped the earth from it, and chewed it with
every indication of satisfaction.
"But--about the gold expedition," said Fred, thinking the old man had
forgotten all about it.
"The gold? Oh, yes. I was thinking whether I hadn't better plant more
onions. It hardly seems enough to tide me over the winter, but I'll have
to make 'em do. The gold, hum--let me see."
He got up from his knees, read Mr. Stanley's letter over again, folded
it carefully, placed it in the envelope, placed the envelope in his
pocket, and then said:
"Come into the house, young man."