"No, I wouldn't, Mr. Allen, because he could explain so many things to me that I have wondered about. I don't know that I ever told you, but it has always seemed so strange to me that my uncle, Mr. Williams, has never once mentioned my father's name to me. He was the last man that saw him alive, yet he has never spoken of him. I have been going to talk with him several times, but he is so gruff and absorbed I can't get up my nerve. There is one thing that has bothered me a lot lately, though, and I've never told you of it, but I'm going to now. I probably never would have thought much about it if it hadn't been for what the old prospector told me the other day over on Cheyenne. I've been wondering if there possibly could be any connection between his not wanting me to come on this trip and the fact that he was just then sending men to do his assessment work on the claim that once belonged to my father. "There is another thing, too, Mr. Allen. I feel ashamed of even thinking of such things, yet the night we had our meeting at Bruin Inn I heard that same prospector discussing a Mr. Williams with Old Ben. I heard him say that Williams was a thief and a sanctimonious old hypocrite. The thing that bothers me is, how much does Williams know of my father's affairs that he has not told my mother. Surely he would not dare to be crooked in such a thing as that." "If you could locate Mr. Kieser, he probably could tell you some things," slowly added Mr. Allen. "Well, there is one thing sure: 'Murder will out,' and with the suspicion I now have, I'll keep quiet, keep my eyes open, and see what I can learn. That Cheyenne claim must be worth holding, or he wouldn't send men away up there to do that work. That costs money!" "Don't worry about it, anyway, boy. I wouldn't be building any air castles concerning that gold mine. It was, no doubt, just like thousands of others here in these mountains--" "I know that, but I want to see the mine that my father dug. Do you suppose I ever will?" "Who can tell but that you have already seen it on this trip? I don't know, but let's go to bed. To-morrow we must find that cabin site, or go home empty-handed. I think we'll get over into these little canyons on the north and work over to the railroad. If we don't find a place there, somewhere, then I'm afraid there is none. Most all of this land is Forest Reserve, and we'll have to get a ninety-nine years' lease if we locate on Government land; but you know, I've been thinking we could build a dandy cabin of these large quaking-aspens, if we could find a place in a good grove. Build a frame, then fit them in, standing them on end, and line with building paper, and perhaps boards. These aspens cut very easily in the winter when they are cold. What would you think of that idea?" Willis was already nodding by the fire, and did not answer. "Good-night," said Mr. Allen, as he pulled his blanket up about him. "Sleep tight, and no dreams, mind you." CHAPTER X