The miner walked off and left Claus sitting there alone. He was certain that he was on the right track at last. As soon as Banta came back they would know something about the haunted mine.

CHAPTER XXVII.

BOB TRIES STRATEGY.

"Well, what did you hear this time?" asked Bob, who lay on his blanket with his hands under his head and a pipe in his mouth. "Everybody kept still about the haunted mine, I suppose?"

"No, sir; I heard about it to-night for the first time," answered Claus. "Banta is going up there to-morrow."

"Then we will know something about it when he comes back," remarked Bob. "I hope the boys have got the better of those ghosts in some way, and that they are working their mine. Go on, and tell us what you have heard."

Claus did not have much to tell, for the miners had cut the conversation short; but what little he did say created great excitement between those who heard it now for the first time. The boys had got the better of those unearthly spirits in some way, for if the ghosts had driven them out and not allowed them to work their mine, the miners would have found it out long before this time.

"I don't see why Banta put it off for two weeks," said Jake; "I reckon he was afraid of them spirits."

The next day was one which Claus often remembered. There was much excitement in the camp, although it did not show itself. There was none of that singing and whistling going on, but every man worked in silence. Banta and his partner had got off at daylight, and ten hours must pa.s.s away before they could look for their return; but evening came on apace, the camp-fire was lighted, and the miners gathered around it and smoked their pipes without making any comments on the long delay of Mr. Banta and the man who had gone with him. There was one thing that troubled them, although no one spoke of it--the mule which had carried their pack-saddle came home alone, and was now feeding in company with the old bell-mare. That looked suspicious, but the men said nothing. For an hour they sat around the fire, and then one of them broke the stillness. He was an old, gray-headed man, experienced in mining, and of course all listened to what he had to say. He spoke in a low tone, as if there had been a patient there and he was afraid to arouse him.

"Ten miles in ten hours," said he, knocking the ashes from his pipe.

"Boys, something's got the better of those two men. I remember that several years ago I was waiting for a partner of mine who had gone away to prospect a mine----"

"What was that?" exclaimed a miner, jumping to his feet.

"I heard something, but I don't know what it was," said another.

It was done quicker than we could tell it. In less than a second two hundred men sprang to their feet, and two hundred hands slipped behind them and laid hold of as many revolvers. Of all those men, there was not one who would have hesitated to fight Indians with the fear of death before their eyes, but there was not a single instance of a miner who did not change color at the sound of a noise which seemed to come upon them from no one could have told where.

"Which way did the noise come from?" asked a miner.

"What did it sound like?" queried another.

"There it is!" said the miner who had at first detected it--"it sounds like a horse's hoofs on the rocks. There! Don't you hear it?"

And so it proved. The noise was heard plainly enough by this time, and in a few moments more two men came out of the willows and rode into the circle of light that was thrown out by the camp-fire. They were Banta and his partner; and one look at their faces was enough--they were fairly radiant with joy.

"Halloo! boys," cried Banta. "I declare, you act as though you had lost your best friend; and some of you have revolvers drawn on us, too!"

"Say, pard," said one of the miners, shoving his revolver back where it belonged and extending a hand to each of the newcomers, "where have you been so long? Your pack-mule has been home all the afternoon, and has kept the camp in an uproar with her constant braying. She acted as though she wanted to see your horses. Did you see the boys?"

"Yes, sir, we saw the boys," answered Banta. He did not seem in any particular hurry to relieve the suspense of his friends, which was now worked up to the highest degree, but dismounted from his horse very deliberately and proceeded to turn him loose.

"Well, why don't you go on with it?" asked another miner. "Were the boys all right?"

"The boys were all right and tight, and digging away as hard as they could."

"Did they--did they see the ghosts?"

"Of course they did; and the ghosts are now lying up there with their skins off."

"Were they animals?"

"You are right again. Now, hold on till I light my pipe and I'll tell you all about it. Tony, you ought to have gone up there; you would be ten thousand dollars better off than you are this minute."

Tony was a man who was noted far and near for his success in killing the lions which were so abundant in the mountains. He would rather hunt them than dig for gold, because he was almost sure to get the animal he went after. He was filling his pipe when Banta was speaking, but he dropped it and let it lay on the ground where it had fallen.

"It is the truth I am telling you," declared Banta. "If you don't believe it, you can go up there to that haunted mine and find out all about it. The boys killed them with nothing but revolvers."

Banta had his pipe lit by this time, and the miners crowded around him, all eager for his story. Bob and Jake were there, and no one seemed to pay the least attention to them; but they were impatient to learn all the particulars of the case. There was one question they wanted answered immediately, and that was, Did the boys really have a bagful of dust, or was Banta merely joking about that? Fortunately Tony recovered his wits and his pipe at the same time and asked the question for them.

"Did the boys get ten thousand dollars in two weeks?" he asked.

"Well, they brought a bag out for us to examine, and they thought it was nothing but iron pyrites," said Banta; and then he went on smoking his pipe.

"We took one look at the bag," said his partner, "and we took a big load off the boys' minds when we told them it was gold, and nothing else. Yes, sir--they have it fair and square."

"The boys are going ahead as though there had never been any ghosts there," said Banta; and then he went on to tell the miners everything that had happened during their trip to the haunted mine; and when he got started, he followed Julian's narrative, and paid no attention to Jack's. It was certain that the story did not lose anything by pa.s.sing through his hands.

"Jack pulled off his shirt," said he, in conclusion, "and he has some wounds on his back that will go with him through life."

"And is the gold as thick as they say it is--so thick that one can pick it up with his hands?"

"It is not quite as thick as that," replied Banta, with a laugh. "But every time one washes out a cradleful he finds anywhere from a teaspoonful to three or four which he wants to put in his bag. I tell you, the boys have been lucky."

"I am going up there the first thing in the morning," said a miner.

"Here I have been slaving and toiling for color for six months, and I can hardly get enough to pay for my provisions, but I'll bet it won't be that way, now, much longer."

"Wait until I tell you something," answered Banta. "Neely, you can go up there, if you are set on it; there's no law here that will make you stay away. There are plenty of places where you can sink a shaft without troubling the boys any, but whether or not it will pay you is another question. The boys will be down here themselves in less than two weeks' time."

"How do you account for that?"

"Their vein is giving out. It will end in a deep ravine that is up there, and there their color ends."

"Why don't they go back farther and start another?" asked the miner.

"It won't pay. The man who started that shaft upon which they are now at work was a tenderfoot, sure enough. There is not the first sign of color about the dirt anywhere. He thought it was a pretty place and so went to work, and the consequence is, it has panned out sixty thousand dollars. But go ahead if you want to, Neely."

Neely did not know whether or not he wanted to go ahead with such a warning in his ears. Banta was an experienced prospector, and he could almost tell by looking at the ground if there was any gold anywhere about there. A good many who had been on the point of starting for the haunted mine with the first peep of day shook their heads, and concluded they would rather stay where they were than go off to a new country. There were three, who did not say anything, whose minds were already made up as to what they would do. They waited until the miners were ready to go to their blankets, and then Bob attracted the attention of those nearest him by saying,

"What Banta says throws a damper on me. The haunted mine is going to play out in a day or two, this place here is not worth shucks, and we are going off somewhere at break of day to see if we can't do better than we are doing here."

"Where are you going?" asked one.

"I don't know, and in fact I don't care much. I'll go to the first good place I hear of, I don't care if it is on the other side of the Rocky Mountains. I came out here expecting to get rich in a few days, and I am poorer now than I was ten years ago. These mountains around here have not any gold in them for me."

"And I say it is good riddance," whispered the miner to some who stood near him. "If you had acted as you did last year, you would have been sent out before this time."