d that they didn't seem to know much more than did anybody else.
They had spoken of a nephew, though. He wasn't entitled to it, was
he--even if the man in St. Louis had been looking for him? The man had
given it to him, Charley, and to his, Charley's, father, because they
had helped him. Shucks! Now the nephew might be hunting for it, and
the long-nosed man and partners were hunting for it, and it didn't
belong to any of them.

Charley had half a mind to get out of bed and find those two men. He
wanted to see them, at least. But to snoop through the hall, asking
people in the rooms if they had been talking about "Tom," would be a
crazy proceeding. No; all he could do was to wait till morning and
tell his father and Mr. Grigsby what he had heard. He wished that they
weren't sleeping so soundly, and snoring without a pause. He could
scarcely wait--until he fell asleep himself.

It appeared to be the fashion in San Francisco to sleep late. Perhaps
everybody was tired out. The early morning hours were the only quiet
hours, and when Charley was wakened by the movements of his father and
Mr. Grigsby, the rest of the hotel seemed to be still in bed.

"All aboard, Charley," bade his father, leaning over the bunk. He was
dressed, and so was Mr. Grigsby. The air in the room was chill and
gray.

"All right," answered Charley. "But wait a minute. I want to tell you
and Mr. Grigsby what I heard, while you were asleep. Got to speak low,
though." And with them listening, close to him as he sat up, he
repeated every word of the conversation. "That nephew doesn't get any
of it, just the same; does he?" he added. "It's ours."

"Now, Charley," laughed his father, "you're going too fast. Nobody can
have it till after somebody finds it. We've come 6000 miles, and what
do we know? There was a man named Tom, who is supposed to have had a
mine in Northern California named the Golden West, and a nephew back in
the States. That's too indefinite to argue about."

"A quartz claim," reminded Mr. Grigsby. "That's one clue of value.
There aren't many quartz claims in the country. Nearly all the mining
is placer. People prefer to dig in the dirt rather than blast in the
rock. It's quicker."

"Quartz let it be, then," agreed Mr. Adams. "That does help out a bit;
but we won't discuss ownership yet, except with that man Jacobs. Him
I'll resist to the full extent of law and strength."

"What is a quartz claim?" querie