s of
the scene; "but, I reckon, there is no artist that can paint a picture
the equal of that," and he pointed to the distant tops of the eastern
mountains. "It takes the brush of God to paint that kind of pictures!"

And Thure was right. No artist's skill could transfer to canvas the full
glories of such a scene as now delighted the eyes of Thure and Bud.

The first rays of the morning's sun flamed upon the snow-covered tops of
the mountains towering high above their heads to the eastward, while the
mountainsides and valleys were still dark with the shadows of night; and
everywhere the flaming light of morning struck the crystal-white of the
snow on mountain top and pinnacle, that peak was crowned with a glorious
halo that glowed, first with grayish violet lights, swiftly changing to
crimson and rose, and from rose to gold, until, suddenly, the whole peak
blazed forth in the glorious light of the full-risen sun. A vision for
an artist to rhapsodize over; but for a God to paint!

"Bre'kfust! First an' last call tew bre'kfust!" yelled Ham from the open
door of the house, just as the sun burst over the tops of the mountains.

"I feel as if I had just been to church," Thure said reverently, as the
two boys started back to the house.

"So do I," agreed Bud. "Only no church or priest ever seem to bring God
as close to a fellow as such a scene as that does. I don't see how
anybody can live in the mountains and not believe in God."

As soon as breakfast was eaten, Mr. Conroyal arose.

"Now," he said, "that we have all had a night in which to think over the
tale of the dead miner we had better get together and decide on what we
had best do; and, as Dill suggested last night, we will first talk it
over in an informal way. Now, what do you think about the truth of the
miner's yarn? That, of course, is the first thing to settle; for there
is no need of bothering with the matter at all, unless we feel quite
sure that the miner really found a cave something like the one he
described to Thure and Bud."

"Well, considering all things," and Frank Holt took the pipe he had lit
and was puffing on out of his mouth and laid it down on the table, "and
more especially considering the fact, that, when I saw him in Coleman's,
he appeared to have just got in from a long prospecting spell in the
mountains and to have plenty of gold along with him, and gold of a
different kind than is found anywhere around here, I feel quite certain
that