"I tell you we are 'some,' now that we have our pockets full of money," soliloquized Claus, who grew angry when he drew a contrast between his and their station in life. "Most anybody would feel big if he was in their place. But I must look out--I don't want them to see me here."

Fortunately Claus was not again called upon to dodge the boys in his rambles about the city. He kept himself in a part of the city remote from that which the boys frequented. The winter pa.s.sed on, and spring opened, and he did not again see them; but he heard of them through Bob and Jake, who made frequent visits to the hotel where Mr. Banta was located.

"I guess we saw your boys to-day," said Bob, who then went on to give a description of them. "They have it all cut and dried with Banta, and he is going to show them the way to their mine. No, they did not mention your name once. They are going to buy a pack-horse, and load him up with tools and provisions, and are going out as big as life."

"That is all right," said Claus. "Now, remember--I am to have a third of the dust you get."

"Of course; that is understood," answered Jake, who now seemed as anxious to go to Dutch Flat as he had before been to keep away from it. "It would not be fair for us to take it all. Where are you going after you get the money?"

"I haven't got it yet," remarked Claus, with a smile. "Those ghosts may be too strong for the boys, and perhaps they will come away without anything."

"Then we will pitch in and work the mine, ourselves," said Bob. "They say that gold is so thick up there that you can pick it up with your hands. We won't come away and leave such a vein behind us."

"What about the ghosts?" queried Claus, who could not deny he was afraid of them. "They may be too strong for you, also."

"If they can get away with cold steel we'll give in to them," said Jake. "But I'll risk that. Where are you going when you get the money?

Of course you can't go back to St. Louis."

"No; I think I shall go on to California. I have always wanted to see that State."

"Well, we will go East. Three thousand dollars, if they succeed in digging out ten thousand, added to what we shall make--humph!" said Bob; and then he stopped before he had gone any further.

It was a wonder that Claus did not suspect something, but his mind was too fully occupied with other matters. Where was he going when he got the money? That was something that had not occurred to Claus before, and he found out that he had something yet to worry him.

"You fellows seem to think you will get rich by robbing those boys,"

remarked Claus, knowing that he must say something.

"No, we don't," answered Jake; "but that will be enough to keep us until we can turn our hands to some other kind of work. Now about our pack-horse, tools and provisions. You have money enough to pay for them, I suppose?"

"Oh, yes--that is, I have a little," Claus replied, cautiously, for he was afraid the miners might want more of it than he felt able to spend. "But I tell you I shall be hard up after I get those things."

"You have other money besides what you gave the boys," said Bob. "You can write to St. Louis for more."

"But I don't want to do that. I have with me just what I can spare, for my other funds are all invested."

"Oh, you can get more for the sake of what is coming to you," said Jake, carelessly. "Now, we want to start for Dutch Flat in about a week. That will give the boys time to fight the ghosts and get to work in their pit. Suppose we go and see about our pack-horse and tools."

Claus would have been glad to have put this thing off for a day or two, but he could not see any way to get out of it. He went with the miners, who knew just where they wanted to go, and the horse he bought was a perfect rack of bones that did not seem strong enough to carry himself up to Dutch Flat, let alone a hundredweight of tools and provisions with him. The tools he bought were to be left in the store until they were called for, and the miners drew a long breath of relief, for that much was done. If Claus at any time got sick of his bargain, and wanted to haul out, he could go and welcome; but they would hold fast to his tools and provisions, and use them in prospecting somewhere else.

The morning set apart for their departure came at last, and Claus and his companions put off at the first peep of day. They made the journey of two hundred miles without any mishap, and finally rode into the camp of Dutch Flat just as the miners were getting ready to have their dinner. They all looked up when they heard the newcomers, and some uttered profane e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns under their breath, while others greeted them in a way that Claus did not like, for it showed him how his partners stood there with the miners.

"Well, if there ain't Bob I'm a Dutchman!" exclaimed one, straightening up and shading his eyes with his hand. "You are on hand, like a bad five-dollar bill--ain't you? I was in hopes you were well on your way to the States by this time."

"No, sir; I am here yet," answered Bob. "You don't mind if I go and work my old claim, do you? I don't reckon that anybody has it."

"Mighty clear of anybody taking your claim," said another. "You can go there and work it, for all of us; but we don't want you snooping around us like you did last summer."

"What is the matter with those fellows?" asked Claus, when they were out of hearing. "What did you men do here last summer?"

"Just nothing at all," replied Jake. "We wanted to know how much gold everybody was digging, and that made them jealous of us."

"But if you can't mingle with them as you did then, how are you going to find out about the haunted mine?"

"Oh, we'll mix with them just as we did last year, only we sha'n't have so much to say to them," said Jake. "Here is our claim, and it don't look as though anybody had been nigh it."

Claus was both surprised and downhearted. If he had known that the miners were going to extend such a reception as that to him he would have been the last one to go among them. There he was, almost alone, with two hundred brawny fellows around him, each one with a revolver strapped to his waist, and their looks and actions indicated that if necessity required it they would not be at all reluctant to use them.

He managed to gather up courage to visit the general camp-fire, which was kindled just at dark, where the miners met to smoke their pipes and tell about what had happened in their mines during the day. This one had not made anything. The dirt promised fairly, and he hoped in a few days to strike a vein that would pay him and his partner something. Another had tapped a little vein, and he believed that by the time he got a rock out of his way he would stumble onto a deposit that would make him so rich that he would start for the States in short order.

"Well, partner, how do you come on?" asked the man who was sitting close to Claus, who was listening with all his ears. "Does your dirt pan out any better than it did last summer?"

"We have not seen the color of anything yet," replied Claus. "I do not believe there is any gold there."

"You are a tenderfoot, ain't you?"

"Yes; I never have been in the mines before."

"And you will wish, before you see your friends again, that you had never seen them this time. If you get any dust, you hide it where your partners can't find it."

There was one man, who did not take any part in the conversation, that kept a close watch on Claus and listened to every word he said. It was Mr. Banta, who wondered what in the world could have happened to bring so gentlemanly appearing a man up there in company with Bob and Jake.

"He must have money somewhere about his good clothes, and that is what Bob is after," said he to himself. "But if that is the case, why did they not jump him on the way here? I think he will bear watching."

Three nights pa.s.sed in this way, Claus always meeting the miners at the general camp-fire, while his partners stayed at home and waited for him to come back and tell them the news, and on the fourth evening Banta seemed lost in thought. He sat and gazed silently into the fire, unmindful of the tales that were told and the songs that were sung all around him. At last one of the miners addressed him.

"Well, Banta, I suppose this is your last evening with us," he remarked.

"Yes; I go off to-morrow."

"Don't you wish you had not promised to go up there?"

"No, I don't; I shall find out if the boys are all right, anyway. That is what I care the most about. I shall take some provisions with me, and if the boys are above ground I will leave them; otherwise, I shall bring them back."

"Oh, the boys must have the better of the ghosts by this time," said another; "they would have been here before this time if they had not.

You will find them with more gold stowed away than they know what to do with."

"And didn't they see the ghosts at all?"

"Why, as to that, I can't say. But they have beaten them at their own game. You will see."

Claus p.r.i.c.ked up his ears when he heard this, and when the miners had all drawn away, one by one, and sought their blankets in their lean-to's, he asked of the man who sat near him, and who was waiting to smoke his pipe out before he went to bed,

"Where is Banta going?"

"Up to the haunted mine," was the reply. "You see, he went up there two weeks ago with the boys, and promised to come back in two weeks to see how they were coming on. His two weeks are up to-night."

"What is up there, anyway?"

"Well, you can ask somebody else to answer that question," said the miner, getting upon his feet. "I don't know what is up there, and I don't want to know."