Two Boy Gold Miners; Or, Lost in the Mountains — John Shaqi
Two Boy Gold Miners; Or, Lost in the MountainsWebster, Frank V.
General
Two Boy Gold Miners; Or, Lost in the Mountains
Webster, Frank V.
Gold -- Juvenile fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Juvenile fiction; Mountains -- Juvenile fiction; Western stories
"I wouldn't have a word to say if he'd won my money when I gambled with
him," went on the miner. "I've been fool enough to do that in my time,
but I've sworn off from cards and drink. These boys are friends of mine.
Their father did me a good turn, and they don't drink or gamble either.
I say that for the benefit of all who hear it. If any one makes trouble
for them they've got to reckon with me."
"That one lad seems able to take care of himself," remarked a man,
nodding at Jed. "He sent that gambling chap on his back as neat as I
ever saw."
"I'm glad he did," replied Gabe. "I wish I could have caught him. But
I'm still after him, and if he shows up around here again, you can tell
him I'll have back the money he practically stole from me, or my name's
not Gabe Harrison."
"I heard him say he'd been over to the Dizzy Gulch diggings before he
drifted in here," volunteered a miner with a very red mustache.
"He did, eh?" replied Gabe. "Did he say how things were going there?
That's where I'm headed for."
"Said he cleaned up a pile."
"In his own way, I suppose, with cards. Well, if he got some, the miners
must have struck pay dirt. I guess we're on the right road, boys."
This was better news than they yet had heard concerning Dizzy Gulch, and
the three gold seekers felt better over it. They soon retired to their
rooms, where they slept undisturbed, though Jed had uneasy dreams of
fights with mountain lions, and a band of gamblers who had revolvers as
large as cannons.
With the first gleam of daylight Gabe was up, and roused the boys.
"We must make an early start for the mountains," he said. "Our real
trail begins now, and for some time we'll have to depend on ourselves,
for we aren't going to strike any camps."
"Aren't we going to Dizzy Gulch?" asked Jed. "I thought there was a camp
there."
"I've made a little change in our plans," replied the old miner. "I had
a talk with a friend when I was away from the hotel last night, when you
so nearly got into trouble. He told me there had been some good strikes
made at the Gulch, where Ted Jordan is, but nothing remarkable. Now
I've had enough of ordinary mining. I want to get at something big. So I
think we'll strike off into the mountains back of the Gulch."
"Do you think there's gold there?" asked Will.
"I think so. I've made some inquiries about the lay of the land around
Dizzy Gulch, and, from what I know about gold mining, I'm convinced that
we'll stand a better chance in the mountains than we will in the Gulch.
If I'm wrong, and we don't strike some rich pay dirt, we can drift on to
the Gulch, and try our luck there. But I'd like to try my way first, if
you have no objections."
"We're with you," responded Jed. "We'll follow your lead. You know all
about it, and we--well, we're tenderfeet of the tenderest kind, I
guess."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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