"Phew!" whistled Bob. "What a whopper!" came from Si. "The best yet--by a good deal," murmured Maybe Dixon, his eyes glistening. "I reckon it is worth at least five thousand dollars," said Mark, in a low voice. "Every bit of it, lad, and most likely six or seven," answered the old miner. "Where did you get it?" Sitting close to his friends, so that nobody outside might hear, Mark told his tale, to which the others listened with breathless interest. When he mentioned the cave Bob's eyes opened widely. "Maybe it is filled with nuggets," said he. "Maybe," put in Maybe Dixon, quickly. "Anyway, we ought to stake a claim." "Exactly what I think--and the sooner the better," came from Si. "If we don't, those greasers may get some friends to step in for them and do the trick." "Those rascals won't dare to show themselves," said Maybe Dixon. "But, as Si says, they may get somebody else to stake a claim for a share of the findings." "I move we stake a claim this very night," said Bob. "There is no use of waiting." His opinion was the opinion of all. The question was, Could Mark find the spot in the dark, and was he strong enough to make the journey? "I think I can make it if you go slow," said the youth. "But about finding the place, that is another question. I can't, if it is too dark." "But we can get close to it," said Bob, "and then stake a claim as soon as it gets light enough." An hour later they were ready to leave. The nugget was hidden in a hollow behind some bushes, they not wishing to take the time to bury it, and tying up the tent they set off. They carried with them a pick, shovel, and washing pan, besides candles, a lantern, matches, and some few provisions. Each went armed, with the weapons ready for immediate use. The way was a long one to Mark, and the others had frequently to aid him up the rocks and across dangerous pitfalls. Once Si was in danger of going over a cliff, but Bob and Maybe Dixon caught him in the nick of time. "Gosh!" spluttered the former farm lad. "Guess that was a narrow shave for me!" "Be careful," warned the old miner. "We don't want to lose a life for all the nuggets in these mountains." Unfortunately, it was dark and there were some signs of a coming storm. They kept on steadily for about an hour, when Mark called a halt. "It's no use," he said. "I can't see the way. We'll have to camp somewhere until morning." They found a small shelter under some overhanging rocks and there proceeded to make themselves as comfortable as circumstances permitted. They cut down some small pines and used the boughs as bedding and made a campfire of the trunks. Mark was glad enough to lie down and was soon in the land of dreams, and one after another the others followed his example. When they awoke in the morning, there was a heavy mist on the mountain, so that they could not see a hundred feet in any direction.