I've never had it, but I've heard Old Ben at the Inn
tell how it's nearly impossible for a man to go back to his work in the
city after he has once seen the golden glitter and dug the precious
metal from the earth."

Willis had remained very quiet all through the story. A strange sadness
seemed to have settled upon his spirit. Several times Mr. Allen addressed
him, but upon receiving no reply turned and looked closely into the boy's
face. His head was thrown back, and he seemed to be lost in the beauty of
the starry night. In a very quiet tone Mr. Allen said, "A penny for your
thoughts, boy."

Willis laughed a dry little laugh, and, turning to him, replied:

"O, I was just thinking. I hardly know what, exactly. I was thinking of
how that old darky's tunnel caved in. Do all tunnels cave in? I was
thinking of my father." He linked his arm through the "Chief's" as they
walked on up the canyon. "My father was a miner, you know. That's
how he lost his life." Mr. Allen understood the mood now.

"You must tell me more of him some time, Willis. Was he like you?"

"Not very much, but I'm going to be like him, if I can," replied Willis.
"Sometimes, since I've been here in Colorado, especially here in the
mountains, I've fancied that he was near me again, watching and guiding
and keeping me company. It's hard for a fellow like me not to have a
father. Mr. Allen, I don't believe the fellows who have them half
appreciate them, do you?"

A long, loud shout came from ahead, which was answered by a dog's bark.

"O you supper!" shouted Chuck.

"Ben, remember me," cried another.

The inn was a one-story log building, built of rough spruce trees, just
as they had been cut from the mountain. On the side next to the stream
was a rustic porch. On the down-canyon end was built an immense old,
stone fireplace. From the chimney top there was a procession of tiny
sparks making their way upwards from the roaring wood-fire within. Here
and there on the wall hung the hides of denizens of the woods. Behind the
pine door stood an old-fashioned, double-barreled shotgun and a later
model Winchester rifle. In the opposite corner stood two short-handled
shovels and a miner's pick, while on the wall just above the fireplace
hung the head of a great buck that had one time roamed those very hills.

The fireplace, which occupied the center of the east wall, was large
and very attractive. An old hand-made crane had been built into the
firebox, and