As they advanced, they kept their eyes on the alert for the distant campfire. Twice they found and lost it, but, as they came around another spur of rocks they beheld it quite plainly and saw several figures moving around it. "Wait!" called Dave, to the others. "If that is Abe Blower's camp, and Merwell and Haskers are with him, I've got an idea." "What is that?" asked Roger. "Why not let Mr. Dillon go ahead alone, and find out what Merwell and Haskers have to say? We can sneak up in the darkness and show ourselves later." This was considered a good plan, and, after a short discussion, it was adopted. The old miner mounted his horse and rode onward, the three boys coming after him on foot and keeping in the shadow of the rocks to one side of the uneven trail. The clatter of the horse's hoofs on the rocks soon attracted the attention of those around the distant campfire. The three persons came forward, to see who was coming. "Why, if it ain't Tom Dillon, of all men!" cried one of the three, and his face, that had shown anxiety, broke into a smile. "How are you, Tom, and what brings you up here?" "I came to find you, Abe," was the old miner's reply. "They told me down in Butte you were off to have another search for the lost Landslide Mine." "Saw Kate Carmody, I reckon," went on Abe Blower. "Yes, I'm goin' on another hunt fer the mine--account o' these two gents," and Abe Blower pointed to his companions. "Who is this man?" asked one of the others, who had come from the campfire. "This is Tom Dillon, one o' the best old-time miners and prospectors in Montany," answered Abe Blower, with a broad smile. "He used to know yer uncle well," he added. "Is that so? Then--er--perhaps he can help us to locate the lost mine." "Mebbe--if he wants to spare the time. Ye see, Tom ain't so poor as I be," explained Abe Blower. "He made his pile an' saved it, he did," he added, admiringly. "Who are your companions, Abe?" asked Tom Dillon, rather abruptly. "Oh, sure, excuse me fer not introducin' you," cried the other miner. "This here is Mr. Morr, son o' Senator Morr an' nevvy of Maurice Harrison, an' this is his friend, Prefesser Haskers, o' the colledge Morr ust to go to. Gents, this is Mr. Thomas Dillon, a miner an' prospector, an' one o' the richest an' best men in Butte." "Ah, glad to know you, sir!" exclaimed Job Haskers, and held out his thin hand. But, somehow, Tom Dillon did not seem to see it and he merely bowed. "And you are Senator Morr's son, eh?" said the old miner, turning to Link Merwell. "I am," was the bold answer, but when the old miner looked him squarely in the eyes, Merwell had to turn his gaze away. "I understood that Maurice Harrison, when he died, willed the Landslide Mine to your family," went on Tom Dillon. "He did, and I and my friend are here to look for it," answered Link Merwell. "Think you'll find it?"