ugh I didn't know what
your name would be when you come, and it couldn't be a better one!
We'll outfit first for the Three Hills of Gold in the desert, and if
luck is against us there we'll strike down into Sonora to have a try
after the red gold of El Alisal. I've covered some of that ground, but
never had a pardner who would stick. They'd beat it because of either
the Mexicans or the Indians, but _you_--say boy! It's the greatest
game in the world and we'll go to it!"

His young eyes sparkled in his weathered desert face, and more than
ten years were cast aside in his enthusiasm. K. Rhodes looked at him
askance.

"If I did not have a key to your sane and calm outlining of prospects
for the future, I might suspect loco weed or some other dope," he
observed. "But the fact is you must have known that my grandfather in
his day went on the trail of the Three Hills of Gold, and left about a
dozen different plans on paper for future trips."

"Know it? Why boy, I went in with him!" shrilled Captain Pike. "Know
it? Why, we crawled out half starved, and dried out as a couple of
last year's gourds. We dug roots and were chewing our own boot tops
when the Indians found us. Sure, I know it. He went East to raise
money for a bigger outfit, but never got back--died there."

"Yes, then my father gathered up all the plans and specifications and
came out with a friend about fifteen years ago," added Rhodes. "They
never got anywhere, but he sort of worked the fever off, bought some
land and hit the trail back home. So I've been fairly well fed up on
your sort of dope, Captain, and when I've mended that gone feeling in
my pocketbook I may 'call' you on the gold trail proposition. Even if
you're bluffing there'll be no come back; I can listen to a lot of
'lost mine' vagaries. It sounds like home sweet home to me!"

"Bluff nothing! we'll start next week."

"No we won't, I've got a job and made a promise, got to help clean up
the work here for the winter. Promised to take the next load of horses
East."

"That's a new one," observed his new friend. "Conrad himself has
always gone East with the horses, or sent Brehmen, his secretary. But
never mind, Bub, the eastern trip won't take long. I'll be devilin'
around getting our outfit and when the chance comes--us for the Three
Hills of Gold!"

"It listens well," agreed K. Rhodes, "cheeriest little _pasear_ I've
struck in the county. We'll have some great old powwows, even if we
don't m