The Pike's Peak Rush Part 32

"Uh-uh. We haven't weighed it; haven't any scales."

"I want to see some gold," piped Virgie.

"I'll show you some when we get to the cabin," promised Terry.

"Is Harry at the cabin?" queried George.

"Yes; we'll surprise him."

"What's he doing? Is the cabin at your mine? Is he mining there while you're mining at that other place? Who's Pat Casey? Why don't you and Harry mine together?"

"I guess he's cooking. Somebody has to cook," explained Terry. "And clean up."

"Well, you need cleaning up, all right," a.s.serted George. "Reckon you'd better not let your mother see you in _those_ clothes! She'd have a fit."

"Aw, we old miners all dress like this," retorted Terry. "It's only tenderfeet who fix up."

"n.o.body'd take you for a millionaire, that's sure," scoffed George.

"Say!" he added. "You sold Duke, didn't you? I saw him in a show, there at Denver--or Auraria, I mean, but it's all the same thing. What'd you do that for? They're going to match him with a bear as soon as they can find the bear--have a fight!"

"Oh, shucks!" deplored Terry. "Did you see Thunder Horse's head, too?"

"Was that Thunder Horse? Didn't look like him now! Where'd they get his head? Thought Pine Knot Ike had it. You said so in your letter."

"Yes, he did have it on the trail. But Mr. O'Reilly bought it for the show. And Pine Knot Ike's in here. He's with a gang not very far from us."

"I don't like Thunder Horse, and I'm hungry," piped Virgie.

"We'll have something to eat in a jiffy," comforted Terry. "There's the cabin."

"Which one?" queried George.

"That one with the sign on. See? On that little rise."

"What does the sign say--'Pike's Peak Limited'? Or 'The Golden Prize'?"

urged George. "'Golden Prize Mine,' I bet."

"I see Harry! We're going to s'prise Harry," rejoiced Virgie.

That seemed evident, for Harry was sitting against the cabin wall, under the sign, and busily engaged.

"He's panning gold, isn't he?" exclaimed George, excited.

"Naw," said Terry, weakly. "He's panning dough, I reckon."

"Oh, look!" cried Virgie.

For Harry had sprung up at the approach of another man around the corner of the cabin--was telling him to get out--the man would not go--jumped for Harry--got the pan of dough square on the head--and they closed and swayed, wrestling. Shep appeared, to circle and bark and snap.

Virgie screamed.

"That's Pine Knot Ike!" gasped Terry, jumping forward.

And George, dropping pick and spade and ducking from his blanket roll, fairly streaked it, shouting and flourishing his wooden-hammer revolver.

He easily beat Terry.

Suddenly Pine Knot Ike went staggering from one of Harry's clever trips, and saw George and the big revolver. Away he lunged, legging it and making an odd sight with his head and shoulders plastered by dough, and Shep nipping at his trousers' seat.

"You'd better get," threatened George, pursuing, "or I'll shoot you into little bits!"

Harry quickly drew back his arm and threw--the piece of rock struck Ike between the shoulders. Whereupon, as if thinking that he really had been shot, Ike uttered a loud yelp, gave a prodigious leap, and legged faster.

"Bang!" shouted George.

When Terry and Virgie arrived, George was returning, considerably swelled up with the triumph of his wooden-hammer gun, and Harry was laughing.

"There go four dollars' worth of dough and my pocket piece. Howdy, Virgie? h.e.l.lo, George! Much obliged. Where are the other folks?"

"They're down at Cherry Creek. We came----"

"What was the matter? What'd he want?" interrupted Terry. "The big lummix!"

"I don't know. He was hanging 'round--I 'spied him poking about on that other claim yonder, and when I ordered him off with the shot-gun he said something about 'taking it out of my hide.' So he sneaked in on me when I wasn't looking. I don't think my hide would pan out much, but he might get good color out of Terry's and my clothes."

"Aw----!" blurted George, who now had read the sign. "'Gregory Gulch Bakery! Harry Revere & Co.'! What do you mean by that? I thought you had a gold mine!"

"So we have," chuckled Harry. "At two dollars a pie, and a dollar and a half a day loading Pat Casey's sluice."

George indignantly flung his hat on the ground.

"But I didn't come 'way out here to bake pies or work for a dollar and a half a day," he accused, as if they were to blame. "We-all thought you were rich, and I was going to dig on my own hook and get rich, too."

Virgie, who did not understand, but sensed a disappointment, began to wail.

CHAPTER XVII

ANOTHER CALL FOR HUSTLE

They calmed Virgie, George stalked out and glumly brought in his brand new pick and spade, and during dinner Harry and Terry tried to explain.

"You see, we've got our mines ready, all right," concluded Terry, "but we can't work 'em."

"Why don't you make those fellows give you water, then?" demanded the s.p.u.n.ky George. "Let's all go over there tonight with our guns and open a ditch. If my gun would shoot I'd go alone."