“These are trifles,” she bravely said, pointing to them; “but what I should like would be more schooling.” “You shall go to school, and before I get any gold either. I know a way to fix it.” “Don’t anger Mr. Hodges, will you, Ben?” She turned an anxious face toward him. “I won’t. I didn’t tell you that I found a note of his for ninety dollars among father’s papers.” “No. You don’t expect to get it?” “Of course not; but I can hold it over his head for nearly two years yet.” Her face brightened. “And make him let me go to school! That isn’t a bad scheme.” “We’re doing great things in schemes to-day. Let’s go through the old Works!” He seized her hand and they tore down the hillside, until they stood, out of breath, before the nailed gates. Grim and gaunt the building faced them. Boards were nailed over the broken windows, and there were gaping sags in the roof. Ben found an aperture in the fence, and they squeezed themselves through it into the yard. “Here,” he cried, “is where they dumped the ore! Beth, millions have lain were we are standing!” She did not appear to be greatly impressed by this dramatic statement, and nervously glanced about. “I should think tramps would sleep here.” “No fear of that,” he replied; “it’s too cold. Come inside!” She followed him timorously, feeling the mystery of a vacant house, the unseen presence of former occupants. “See!” Ben eagerly exclaimed, “there is where the boilers stood. And there,”--he pointed to where some twisted and rusty pipes loosely hung against the wall, like petrified serpents,--“is where the tanks stood in which they washed the gold. They washed it before melting it into bricks. Father has told me how the men used to stand knee-deep in it in the tanks and shovel it out, just as if they were shoveling coal.” “They must have lost a lot.” “It couldn’t be helped. And no one’s ever worked it over!” “What was that!” “Nothing but a loose shingle in the roof. Why, Beth, I didn’t know you were such a coward.” “I’m not a coward; but I don’t like spooky places.” She looked apprehensively toward a dark corner. “Spooky! Well, I hope some old miner’s ghost will kindly show me where to dig, that’s all. See how wide the cracks are in the floor of this shed,” he said, as he looked through an opening which led to an adjoining building. “There are thousands of dollars in the dirt under it--probably.” They peered into the black cracks and could almost fancy they saw the glitter of the precious metal. The boy threw back his head and gazed at the massive brickwork of the chimney. “It’s a chance, of course, but I’m going to take it. It’s funny to think of mining for gold in the heart of San Francisco in 1901!” He laughed and gave a low whistle.