dden he gave a cry of wonder and
delight.

Just ahead of him were a number of heavy timbers, such as are used for
shoring in mines. And among the timbers lay a pick and a crowbar and the
remains of a smashed lantern.

At that instant Dave remembered one thing that Roger had told him, which
was that Maurice Harrison had always branded all of his tools with his
initials. Eagerly, our hero caught up the pick and held the handle in
the light of his torch. There, on the broad part of the pick's handle,
were the initials:

_M. H._

"It's the lost mine!" shouted the youth. "The lost mine as sure as fate!
Oh, I must get out and tell Roger and the others of this!"

But then he hesitated. What if this should prove to be only some
abandoned "prospect" and not the real mine at all?

"I'd better look around a little first and make sure," he reasoned. "If
I can only find some of the gold Mr. Harrison spoke about, I'd be
sure."

He looked at the lantern and the crowbar and saw that both contained the
initials found on the pick. He placed the three articles in a heap, and
then climbed over the broken timbers to the opening beyond. As he did
this a current of pure, cold air struck him.

"There must be other openings to this cave or mine," he reasoned.
"Otherwise it wouldn't be so well ventilated. Well, I'm glad to have the
fresh air. Where is that gold? If this is really the mine I ought to see
some of it in the rocks."

He walked along, throwing the light of his torch on the rocks as he did
so. For several minutes he saw nothing that looked like gold, and his
heart sank. But suddenly he gave a low whistle and in his excitement
almost dropped his torch.

For in a crack of the rocks he had come across a small "pocket," as it
is termed by miners. In the pocket lay a quantity of sand, and on top of
this an irregular object about as large as a small hen's egg.

"A nugget! A nugget of gold!" cried Dave, as he rubbed it off and
inspected it by the light of the torch. "A nugget of gold just as sure
as sure can be! Oh, this must be the lost mine!"

In feverish haste he set his torch up in a crack of the rocks and
commenced to scoop the sand from the pocket with his hands. Out came
another nugget and then another, and then half a dozen, all about the
size of hickory nuts. Then the pocket grew so deep and narrow he could
not reach down into it. He took up the crowbar, and with it ascertained
that the opening with the sand and nugg