"What was the matter? What'd he want?" interrupted Terry. "The big lummix!" "I don't know. He was hanging 'round--I 'spied him poking about on that other claim yonder, and when I ordered him off with the shot-gun he said something about 'taking it out of my hide.' So he sneaked in on me when I wasn't looking. I don't think my hide would pan out much, but he might get good color out of Terry's and my clothes." "Aw----!" blurted George, who now had read the sign. "'Gregory Gulch Bakery! Harry Revere & Co.'! What do you mean by that? I thought you had a gold mine!" "So we have," chuckled Harry. "At two dollars a pie, and a dollar and a half a day loading Pat Casey's sluice." George indignantly flung his hat on the ground. "But I didn't come 'way out here to bake pies or work for a dollar and a half a day," he accused, as if they were to blame. "We-all thought you were rich, and I was going to dig on my own hook and get rich, too." Virgie, who did not understand, but sensed a disappointment, began to wail. CHAPTER XVII ANOTHER CALL FOR HUSTLE They calmed Virgie, George stalked out and glumly brought in his brand new pick and spade, and during dinner Harry and Terry tried to explain. "You see, we've got our mines ready, all right," concluded Terry, "but we can't work 'em." "Why don't you make those fellows give you water, then?" demanded the spunky George. "Let's all go over there tonight with our guns and open a ditch. If my gun would shoot I'd go alone." "Trouble is, their guns do shoot, I reckon," drawled Harry. "And another trouble is, the water all around is petering out anyway. That stream below is scarcely a trickle. Pretty soon we'll be carrying our drinking and cooking water from Clear Creek, and that's a mighty long tote." "Pat says there's talk of digging a big ditch and fetching water into the gulch from a river over yonder," informed Terry. "But it will cost money, and anybody who uses the water will have to buy by the inch." "Why don't we wait for it?" proposed George. "You've got some money saved up, and you're making more, aren't you? Your father didn't say anything about wanting his hundred dollars. He grub-staked you, on a chance." "Yes, and his chance is powerful slim," retorted Harry. "He can do more with the hundred dollars than he can with a dry prospect. A hundred dollars is all we've been offered for it, and so his half interest amounts to only $50, and he'd lose out. We'll pay him what we borrowed and we'll do the waiting." "Did they sell the ranches?" asked Terry. "Part trade, and the rest is to come out of the crops. Guess they haven't got very much cash yet," answered George. "That settles it," pronounced Harry. "When you go down you can take our dust. I reckon there's near a hundred dollars." "I'm not going down, for a while," declared George. "I'll throw in with you fellows. Guess I can find something to do." "What!"