"What's that?" demanded Step Hen, scenting an interesting item, for he was always on the look-out for such things as seemed to promise a touch of mystery. "A mine; what kind was it, Toby; who lost it; and why haven't they been able to find it any more?" asked Giraffe, eagerly; while Bumpus crowded closer, for he had a little mercenary streak in his make-up, and was keen to discover a chance to lay by another store of hard cash, that might insure a succession of glorious outings for the Silver Foxes. The guide seemed nothing loth to tell what little he knew. "Why, you see, thar was a man named Rawson--met him lots of times myself; and one time after he'd been pokin' about in this section, prospectin', he came to Greeley with his pockets just bulgin' out with the richest silver ore ever seen. All he'd say was he'd struck a lode that was mighty nigh the pure stuff. Then he went away, to try an' get up a company to work his mine, they sez, an' he never kim back. Nobody never knowed whatever became of Rawson; but heaps of folks has hunted high an' low to find his rich mine. Why, thar was that old miner, Kunnel John Kracker, I jest reckon he spent as much as four months several times up around here, pokin' into the most unlikely places you ever heard tell of. They sez as how he was so dead sot on findin' that same lost silver mine, that he near went dippy over it." "And nobody has ever managed to locate it again, since that day so many years ago; is that what you mean, Toby?" asked Thad. "So she seems, Mr. Scout Master," replied the other, who always gave Thad this full appellation when addressing him. "Bumpus, what in the wide world are you chuckling at, back there?" demanded Davy Jones. "Don't you know Bumpus enough," laughed Allan, "to guess that already he sees the wonderful Silver Foxes discovering that lost silver mine, and just grabbing handfuls of cash right out of it, to pay the expenses of the next trip--where's it going to be another time, Bumpus; down to the gulf, cruising; or along the Mexican border; for you know scouts should never go outside the borders of their own country?" "Well, why not?" demanded the fat boy, defiantly; "look back at the stunts we've carried through so far, and tell me if it would be so very strange if we just happened to drop in on this old hidden mine of the Rockies? Luck camps on the trail of the Silver Fox Patrol every time; and I'm ready to shake hands with anything that needs clearing up. You just wait, and see if I'm so far off, that's all." "And just to think of his name being John Kracker; now, what boy could ever keep from twisting that around, and calling him a cracker-jack?" chuckled Giraffe. "That's a good one, all right," declared the guide, laughing heartily; "and I'm some surprised, I am, that nobody ever thought to put that same on the kunnel afore this. I wish you could aseen him, boys. Why, he's as fat as--er----"