d on
Peter's hand while he was cooking, and see if he was afraid of the
hurt, the same as he would be. Then his mind came back to things of
the moment. This gold prospecting interested him more than anything
else.

"How far are we from Barnriff?" he asked abruptly.

"Twenty odd miles west. Why?"

"I was kind o' wonderin'. Seems we've been headin' clear thro' fer
Barnriff since we started from way back there on the head waters. We
sunk nine holes, hain't we? Say, if we keep right on we'll hit
Barnriff on this line?"

"Sure." The man's blue eyes were watching the boy's face interestedly.

"You found the color o' gold, an' the ledge o' quartz in each o' them
holes, ain't you?"

"Yep."

"Well, if we keep on, an' we find right along, we're goin' to find
some around Barnriff."

"Good, laddie," Peter replied, approving his obvious reasoning. "I'm
working on those old Indian yarns, and, according to them, Barnriff
must be set right on a mighty rich gold mine."

The calm eyes of the boy brightened. Barnriff on a gold mine!

"An' when you find it?"

Peter's eyes dropped before the other's inquiring gaze. That was the
question always before him, but it did not apply to material gold. And
when he should find it, what then? Simply his quest would have closed
at another chapter. His work for the moment would be finished; and he
would once more have to set out on a fresh quest to appease his
restless soul. He shook his head.

"We haven't found it yet," he said.

"But when you do?" the boy persisted.

Peter handed him his plate and his coffee, and sat down to his own
breakfast. But the boy insisted on an answer.

"Yes?"

"Well, laddie, it's kind of tough answering that. I can't rightly tell
you."

"But a gold mine. Gee! You'll be like a Noo York millionaire, with
dollars an' dollars to blow in at the saloon."

Again Peter shook his head. His face seemed suddenly to have grown
old. His eyes seemed to lack their wonted lustre. He sighed.

"I don't want the dollars," he said. "I've got dollars enough; so many
that I hate 'em."

Elia gaped at him.

"You got dollars in heaps?" he almost gasped. "Then why are you
lookin' for more?"

Peter buried his face in a large pannikin of coffee, and when it
emerged the questioning eyes were still upon him.

"Folks guess you're cranked on gold, an' need it bad," the puzzled boy
went on. "They reckon you're foolish, too, allus lookin' around where
you don't need, 'cause