"Well, I am free to own," Abe said, "that I don't see no chance of gold
here; it's clear out of the course of the stream."

Frank was silent for two or three minutes, and then said:--

"Well, Abe, you know I put no faith whatever in a dream, but if you look
at that sharp curve in the opposite bank higher up, you will see that it
is quite possible that in the days when this was a river instead of
being a mere stream, it struck that curve and came over by where we are
standing now. As the water decreased it would naturally find its way
down the middle of the valley, as it does now; but I think it likely
enough that in the old times it flowed under where we are standing."

"By gosh, lad, I think you are about right. What do you say to our
taking up the claims next to this? We are not doing much more than
paying our way where we are, and it's the horses who are really earning
the money."

"I don't know, Abe. We are a good deal above the present bed of the
stream, and should probably have to sink a considerable distance before
we got down to paying ground; that young fellow said they have hardly
found a speck of gold. It would be a risky thing to do; still, we can
think it over, there's no hurry about it."

That night Abe insisted on taking his turn to sit up with the old man.
The son, who had now told them that his name was James Adams, urged that
the previous night's long sleep had quite set him up again, but Abe
would not listen to him.

"It's done you good, lad, no doubt, but ye will be all the better for
another. It wants more than one night's sleep when you have had four or
five out of bed, and a night's watch is nothing one way or other to me.
You just do as you are told."

So James Adams had another long night's sleep, while Abe sat by his
father.

There was no doubt now that the old man was recovering from the
exhaustion which had brought him to death's door; the set, pinched look
of his features was passing away, and the evening following Abe's watch,
when Frank went round to the tent to inquire how he was getting on, the
son came out and said--

"He is better. He went off this morning in what looked like a natural
sleep, and when he woke, an hour ago, I could see that he knew me. I
don't suppose he knew he had been lying insensible for a week, but
thought I had just come back from work. He whispered, 'How does it look
to-day, Jim?' and after what you told me about what you thought about
the old course