she pulled in Nabob sharply.
"We've all got the gold fever."

"Let's give them their heads," said Mollie suddenly. "I'd like a regular
gallop this morning."

"All right, let's go," sang out Betty, and in another minute they were
off, the horses galloping like mad and the girls laughing and shouting
in utter abandonment to their high spirits.

At this rate it took them only a few minutes to reach the spot where
Allen had had his adventure the night before.

They reined in sharply, and Betty jumped down, throwing the reins over
Nigger's neck and giving him a fond little pat on the flank.

"There, old boy," she said. "Go and eat some grass for yourself while we
do a little prospecting. Girls," she added as they in turn dismounted
and ran up to her, "from Allen's description, it must have been just
about here that he stood." She indicated the bent tree with the great
bowlder behind it that Allen had described to them. "And the two men
must have stood in there among that heavy shrubbery somewhere."

"Then this is where they will begin work," cried Amy, a faint flush
warming her face. "Oh, Betty, it all seems like a fairy story."

"Fairy story, nothing!" exclaimed Mollie. "This is a real,
honest-to-goodness adventure story. My, it's a wonder Allen didn't get
shot up last night," she added thoughtfully. "It must have taken nerve
to stand here, listening to those old scoundrels and not knowing what
minute they might find him out and fire upon him."

"I think Allen is perfectly wonderful, anyway," said Grace, and Betty
thrilled at the tribute. "He never seems to know what it is to be
afraid. And he always gets what he wants, too."

"And to think that 'John Josephs' never existed!" chuckled Betty. "Peter
Levine must have quite a good deal of imagination."

"Well, what's the use of standing here?" said Amy, after a moment of
silent musing. "Let's look around a little bit and see what we can see."

So for a while they thrashed around in the bush, accomplishing very
little besides scaring some rabbits and woodchucks into their holes.
They found the tiny creek Peter Levine had spoken of, and they gazed
with interest at its muddy, sluggish water.

"Who would ever think there was gold in the bottom of that?" whispered
Mollie.

When they finally became convinced that there was nothing more to be
seen they started reluctantly home again.

"Let's go around by the mine and see how Meggy and her dad are coming
on," suggeste