The trail down Cherry Creek was six inches deep with dust, ground to powder by the constant wheels and hoofs. In a great cloud it rose as the wagons and animals and persons ploughed through it; to the north lifted other dust lines, where the rival travel likewise pressed forward to the goal. It was an inspiring scene, almost as good as a race; but Left-over grumbled: “I don’t call this Pike’s Peak,” he said. “And where’s Denver City? I don’t see any city.” “City or not,” remarked the Reverend Mr. Baxter, “it’s a wonderful thing, Davy――all these people, from all over the United States, setting out overland, breaking new trails, and founding a town away out here, six hundred miles across the desert, at the foot of those snowy mountains! It’s taken a lot of pluck and a lot of trust in Providence.” “Where do you calculate on stopping, boys?” queried a black-eyed, sharp-nosed man who was riding down along the column. “I don’t know,” drawled Captain Hi. “What’s the difference?” “All the difference in the world. Throw in with Auraria. She’s on the mountain side of the Creek, and she’s bound to be the biggest city west of Omaha. We’ve got the buildings, the people, and the ferry across the Platte River. Remember that. Don’t let these Denver boomers fool you. Stop at Auraria and we’ll treat you right.” And he rode on down the line talking about “Auraria.” But he was close followed by another man――a fatty, red-faced man. “Keep right on down the east side of the creek to Denver City,” he proclaimed. “The travelled side, the side next to the States. Buy a town lot in Denver; it’ll be a nest-egg for you while you’re at the diggin’s. Denver, Denver, Denver! Remember the east side of the creek.” And he, also, proceeded on, chanting the praises of “Denver City.” The Reverend Mr. Baxter laughed. Before they reached the settlement district the trail forked. A large sign, pointing to the left-hand fork, said: “AURARIA. Direct Route to the Gold Fields.” Another sign, pointing before, said: “Straight Ahead for DENVER CITY. Nearest and Best.” “Which will it be, boys?” queried Captain Hi. “Let’s try Denver. It’s on this side of the creek and it’s named for the governor of Kansas,” spoke Mr. Baxter. So they continued on down to Denver City. Denver and Auraria were separated by only the almost dry channels of Cherry Creek, and both extended along it nearly to the Platte River below, into which Cherry Creek emptied. As soon as the Hee-Haw party had pitched their camp on the outskirts of Denver, they hastened about their business. Davy and Mr. Baxter paired off to wander about. Billy and Hi and Jim undertook some errands. Left-over was wild to grab shovel and pick and pan and start right in digging and washing.