rom the bucketful. He gave the Indian about twenty dollars' worth
of grub and made him a present of two yards of bright blue ribbon, which
tickled the old buck so much that in two weeks he was back with more high
grade knotted in the bottom of a gunny sack.

Casey asked the man why some one didn't trail the Injun. Casey knew that
an Indian is not permitted to file a claim to mineral land. He could not
hold it, under the law, if some white man discovered it and located the
ground, but Casey thought that some white-hearted fellow might take the
claim and pay the buck a certain percentage of the profits.

The man said that couldn't be done. The old buck--Injun Jim, they called
him--was an old she-bear. All the Indians were afraid of him and would
hide their faces in their blankets when he passed them on his way to the
gold, rather than be suspected by Injun Jim of any unwarranted interest in
his destination. Casey knew enough about Indians to accept that statement.
And white men, it would seem, were either not nervy enough or else they
were not cunning enough. A few had attempted to trail Injun Jim, but no
one had ever succeeded, because that part of Nevada had not had any gold
stampede, which the man declared would have come sure as fate if Injun
Jim's mine were ever uncovered.

Casey asked certain questions and learned all that the man could tell
him,--or would tell him. He said that Injun Jim lived mostly in the
Tippipah district. No free gold had ever been discovered there, nor much
gold of any kind; but Injun Jim certainly brought free gold into Round
Butte whenever he wanted grub. It must have been ungodly rich,--five
hundred dollars' worth in a ten-pound lard bucket!

The tale held Casey's imagination. He dreamed nights of trailing Injun
Jim, and if he'd had any money to outfit for the venture he surely would
have gone straight to Nevada and to Round Butte. He told himself that it
would take an outsider to furnish the energy for the search. Men who live
in a country are the last to see the possibilities lying all around them,
Casey said. It was true; he had seen it work out even in himself. Hadn't
he driven stage in Cripple Creek country and carried out gold by the
hundred-thousand,--gold that might have been his had he not been content
to drive stage? Hadn't he lived in gold country all his life, almost, and
didn't he know mineral formations as well as many a school--trained
expert?

But even dreams of gold flu