opping young spruce logs into lengths for mine props.
Fat called out in his cheeriest voice, "Hello, there; must be going to
build a cabin!" The man turned and a broad smile crossed his face.

"Yes, an underground one," he said. Then, in a surprised tone, he
continued, "Well, well, aren't you the fellows I saw over at Ben's place
the other evening?" Without waiting for a reply, he went on: "Why, yes,
there is my friend of the wreck! How do you do, lad? It looks like you
fellows are going to make somewhat of a journey, from the appearance of
your traps. Where to, may I inquire? Looking for something definite, or
just out, like myself, to get a little of the wilderness spirit into your
systems?"

"Well, I hardly expected to see you up here in the mountains," said
Willis. "It seems we have met a good many times since spring. What are
you doing up here, anyway?" He turned and surveyed the valley.

"Well, I'll tell you," replied the man, as he leaned on his ax-handle.
"It's like this. When I was a young man, like yourself, I developed a
great love for life in the wilderness. My father was a mountain ranchman
in the Sierra Nevadas, so I had ample opportunity to satisfy my greatest
desire--to roam the hills and valleys and to learn first-hand the art of
getting along well in the wilderness by utilizing Nature's storehouse. As
I have grown older, I have found out that it is the only place where I am
permanently happy. Years ago my partner and myself located this mine,
along with some others; but because of lack of capital, this one was
never developed." He pointed his finger to a pile of loose, freshly-mined
rock just up the hill from his tent. "I've been railroading for the last
ten years, but was awfully unlucky; so after the last smash-up I decided
I would come back and see what this old mine held for me. It's a funny
thing about mines, boys--you can dig and work, work and dig, and be more
or less contented as long as you find nothing but prospects. But when you
dig up a little of the real gold, you get terribly impatient until you
find it in paying quantities. I've had the gold fever for twenty years."

"Do you think there is anything in any of these mines on Cheyenne
Mountain?" inquired Willis. "My father owned a mine somewhere on this
mountain; but I expect that it was a good deal like your mine--never
developed. I'd love to find it, though, just because it was his. He
was killed in a mine accident, somewhere in these h