"A resolve?"

"Yes. I resolved that, the first time I met you, Dave, and the others, I
was going to eat humble pie and tell you just what I thought of myself."
The son of the money-lender was in a perspiration now and mopped his
face with his handkerchief.

Dave hardly knew how to reply. Here was Nat Poole in certainly an
entirely new role.

"I am glad to know you are going to turn over a new leaf," he returned.
"I hope you make a success of it."

"Do you really, Dave?" There was an eager note in Nat's voice.

"Sure I do, Nat. You'd be all right, if--if----"

"Go ahead, give it to me straight, just as Uncle Tom did."

"Well, if you wouldn't be quite so conceited and stuck-up, and if you'd
buckle down a bit more to studying."

"That's what I am going to do--buckle down to study next fall. And if I
show any conceit in the future, well, I want you and Ben Basswood, and
Roger and Phil, and all the others, to knock it right out of me," went
on the money-lender's son, earnestly. "My eyes are open and I'm going
ahead, and I don't want to slip backwards."

"I'll help you all I can, Nat," and Dave held out his hand, which the
other grasped vigorously.

"This talk with Uncle Tom woke me up," went on Nat, a moment later.
"When I get home, I am going to try to wake dad up, too. It's going to
be no easy task, but I'll do it. I know ma will be on my side--she was
never after the money like dad was. I am going to prove to him that he
has got to do something else besides get money."

"I wish you luck, Nat," replied Dave. He could not help but smile when
he thought of the hard-fisted money-lender, and what he might say when
his son went at the task of making him more kind and benevolent.

"And, by the way, Dave, now I am going to turn over a new leaf, I want
to tell you about a letter I received some time ago," went on Nat, after
a pause, during which the train stopped at a station to take on some
passengers.

"A letter?"

"Yes. You'd never guess who it was from."

"Gus Plum?"

"No, Link Merwell."

"Link Merwell!" exclaimed our hero, in surprise. "What did he write to
you about, Nat? Not that diamond robbery?"

"Oh, no, he had precious little to say about that, for he must know I
knew he and Jasniff were guilty. He wrote about you. It was a long
letter--nearly eight pages--and he spoke about what you had done to get
him and me into trouble."

"I never tried to get you into trouble, Nat."

"I know it. But I used to think you were trying to do it. Well, Link
wrote about it, and he wanted to know if I would help him in a scheme to
pay you back. He said he had a dandy scheme to pay you off."

"Oh, he did?" said Dave, with interest. "What was the scheme?"

"He didn't say."

"What did you answer?"

"I didn't answer the letter. I kept it to think about. Then, yesterday,
after my last talk with Uncle Tom, I made up my mind to wash my hands of
Link Merwell, and I burned the letter up."




CHAPTER X

DAVE AT HOME


"I'm glad you washed your hands of Merwell, Nat," replied Dave, with
warmth. "He is not the sort for any respectable fellow to associate
with. But about that letter. Have you any idea what he was going to do?"

"No. All he said was, 'If you will join with me we can pay Dave Porter
off good and get him in the biggest kind of a hole.' I guess you had
better keep your eyes open, Dave."

"I am doing that already."

"I--I made up my mind I'd tell you--when I got to Crumville," faltered
the money-lender's son. "I didn't want you to suffer at his hands."

"I've got my eyes open already," was Dave's reply. "Let me tell you
something, Nat." And then he related the particulars of the affair at
Lake Sargola, and told about the burning of the garage.

"And to think Job Haskers is with him!" cried Nat. "Say, they'll make a
team, won't they!"

"Yes, for I'm thinking that Haskers is about as bad as Merwell,"
answered Dave.

After that came a pause, neither youth knowing exactly what to say. Then
Nat cleared his throat.

"I--I'd like you to do me a favor," he stammered.

"All right, Nat. What is it?" returned our hero, promptly.

"If you get the chance will you tell Ben Basswood and the other fellows
how I'm going to be--er--different after this? And will you tell your
sister and Jessie, too? I don't want them to--to--think I'm wanting to
do anything more that's mean. I want to be--be, well, friendly--if
they'll let me," and Nat's face grew very red as he made the admission.

"I'll tell them all--the first chance I get," promised Dave. "And I am
sure they will be pleased. Why, Nat, I know you can turn over a new
leaf, if you want to. Look at Gus Plum, how mean he used to be, and what
a bully! And look at him now. He's a first-rate fellow. You can do it if
Plum can, can't you?"

"I'm going to try, anyway."

"And I'll help you all I can--and there's my hand on it," answered Dave,
and then the two lads shook hands.

A talk lasting all the way to Crumville followed. As they rolled into
the station Nat left rather hastily, going to the rear of the car, while
Dave went forward. The money-lender's son knew Dave expected to meet
his sister and friends and he did not, just then, wish to face the
party.

"There's Dave!" cried Jessie Wadsworth, as she caught sight of him
through a car window.

"Hello, everybody!" cried the youth, as he swung himself from the car
steps. He gave Jessie's hand a tight squeeze and then kissed his sister.
"How are you?"

"Oh, fine!" came from both girls.

"Hello, Davy!" cried a merry voice, and Dunston Porter, the lad's uncle,
came striding forward from an automobile near by. "How did you leave
Senator Morr and his family, and are you ready for that trip through
Yellowstone Park?"

"I left the senator and his family well," was the answer. "And I am
ready for the trip--that is--part of the trip," Dave added, hastily.

"Part of the trip?" cried Jessie. "Why, what do you mean?"

"I'll tell you later. Oh, I've got lots and lots to tell," went on Dave,
with a smile. He caught Laura and Jessie by the arms. "See Nat Poole
over yonder?" he whispered. "Well, you want to be nice to Nat after
this, for he is going to reform."

"Reform?" queried his sister.

"Really?" added Jessie.

"That's what he told me. We had quite a talk on the train. I'll tell
you about it later. And I've got a lot more to tell," Dave went on. "All
about a lost gold mine that belongs to Mrs. Morr, Roger's mother."

"A lost gold mine!" exclaimed Dunston Porter. "Is this a joke, Dave?"

"No, sir, it's the truth. The strangest tale you ever heard. When we go
out to Yellowstone Park we--that is, us boys--are going to look for the
mine."

"Of all things!" burst out Laura. "Say, Dave, will you ever settle down?
Here I thought you were going to take a nice little personally-conducted
tour with us, and you talk of going land knows where to look for a lost
gold mine!"

"Is it very far?" asked Jessie, and her face showed some disappointment.

"Oh, it's not very far from Yellowstone Park," answered the youth. "It's
in Montana, and you know a corner of the Park is in that State."

All had walked toward the automobile, which Mr. Porter had been running.
The girls got in the tonneau and Dave climbed into the front seat beside
his uncle. Just as they were about to start, Nat Poole walked past,
suit-case in hand, and tipped his hat politely. Both girls smiled and
bowed and Mr. Porter nodded. Then the touring-car rolled off in the
direction of the big Wadsworth mansion, where, as I have before stated,
the Porters resided with the jeweler's family and old Caspar Potts.

As they passed through the main street of Crumville--now built up a
great deal more than when Dave had first known it--many persons bowed
and smiled to all in the car. Everybody knew the Porters and liked them,
and the fact that Dave had once been an inmate of the local poor-house
was almost forgotten.

To the youth himself the ride was full of interest. As he sat back in
the comfortable seat of the automobile he could not help but think of
the many changes that had taken place since he had been found wandering
along the railroad tracks, alone and hungry. He had found a father, an
uncle, and a sister, and he had made many warm friends, including Jessie
Wadsworth, to him the dearest girl in all the world. Certainly he had
much to be grateful for,--and he was grateful from the bottom of his
heart.

A few minutes of riding, after leaving the center of the town, brought
them within sight of the Wadsworth residence, a fine mansion set back
from the roadway, with beautiful trees and shrubbery surrounding it.
Down at the great gateway stood Professor Potts, now white-haired and
somewhat bent, but with a kindly smile of welcome on his face. Dave
waved his hat and the old gentleman bowed with old-fashioned courtesy.
Then the touring-car swept up to the broad front piazza and Mrs.
Wadsworth showed herself.

"Home again, are you, Dave," she said, pleasantly. "I am glad to see
you." And then she allowed him to kiss her. There had been a time when
Dave had been somewhat afraid of this stately lady of society, but that
time was past now, and Mrs. Wadsworth looked on Dave almost as a
son,--indeed, it had been this affection for the youth which had caused
the two families to live under the same roof.

Dave was soon up in his room, putting away his things and getting ready
for dinner, which would be served in half an hour. He was almost ready
to go below when he saw Caspar Potts pass through the hallway.

"Well, Professor, how have you been?" he asked, pleasantly.

"Very well, David, very well," was the somewhat slow reply. "It is a
very pleasant life here, very pleasant!" And the eyes of the old college
professor glistened.

"Got the library in shape now, I suppose?" went on Dave, for he knew
that was the old gentleman's hobby.

"Yes, David, we have every book and pamphlet catalogued. And I am adding
something new," continued the professor. "I am getting the autographs of
many of the writers and pasting them on the fly-leaves. And where a
writer dies and I get a printed obituary notice I paste that in the back
of the book. I think it adds something to a volume to know about the
writer and to have his or her autograph."

"Fine, Professor!" cried Dave, and tapped him on the shoulder. "My, but
it is nice here! Much better than the old farm, eh, and the poor-house
that I came from!"

The old gentleman nodded several times, and the tears stood in his eyes.

"Yes! yes! It is very, very nice. I have found real friends, and I am
thankful, very thankful!" And he continued on his way down the hall,
wiping his eyes with his handkerchief.

On the stairs Dave met Jessie. She was in a fresh dress of white, and
had a rose in her hair.

"How pretty you look!" he whispered, as he took her arm. "Just like a--a
picture!" And then Jessie blushed and that made her look prettier than
ever, if such a thing were possible.

Dave's father and Mr. Wadsworth had come in, and both were glad to see
the boy back. Soon dinner was announced, and all sat down to the long
table, Dave between his sister and Jessie. It was old Professor Potts
who asked grace; and then some rapid-fire conversation followed, the
girls and the others demanding to know all about what had happened at
Senator Morr's home, and about the lost mine.

"It certainly sounds like a romance!" declared Dave's father, referring
to the lost mine.

"But I have heard of such things before," answered his brother. "I know
of several valuable mines in South America that were lost through
earthquakes. Landslides have not only buried mines, they have buried
cities as well."

"Oh, Dave, supposing you went to look for that mine and there was
another landslide!" gasped Jessie, and turned pale.

"That's a risk we'd have to run," was his answer. "But I'd be very
careful as to where I went, Jessie."

"I don't know about this," put in Mr. David Porter, with a grave shake
of his head. "Better take the trip through Yellowstone Park, Dave, and
let the Landslide Mine slide," and he smiled, faintly.

"Oh, I promised Roger that I'd go with him,--and Phil is going, too!"
pleaded Dave. "We'll be very careful."

"I might go with you myself, only I think I ought to stay with the party
to go through the Park," said Dunston Porter.

"Yes, we want you with us!" cried Laura.

"I don't like this at all!" pouted Jessie, and looked somewhat
reproachfully at Dave.

"Oh, you mustn't take it that way!" cried the youth. "Why, we'll be with
you on the trip to the Park, and then we'll join you on the tour a
little later. You are to stay at least four weeks, remember. Well, if we
spent two or even three weeks looking for that mine we'd still have a
week in the Park--and one can go through in six days, so the circular
says."

After that the talk became general, Dave learning more concerning the
tour and who from Crumville and vicinity had signed to go, and the
others asking for the details concerning the mine, and about the doings
of Job Haskers and Link Merwell.

"You steer clear of that rascally teacher and young Merwell," advised
Dave's father. "They are a bad lot."

"I'll steer clear if I can," answered Dave. "But if I catch them in any
wrongdoing and I can manage it, I am going to have both of them
arrested."

"I'd not blame you for that."

After the meal Dave spent a pleasant evening with Laura and Jessie. The
three young folks went out on the porch and there, a little later, Ben
Basswood joined them. All talked about the trip to Yellowstone Park, and
about the Landslide Mine.

"I'd like to go after that mine myself," said Ben. "But I know I can't
do it, for I promised mother and my Aunt Kate that I'd stay with them
all through the trip."

"Then you'll have to stay with Laura and Jessie, too," returned Dave.
"I'll leave them in your care while I am away."

"Oh, Dave, as if Uncle Dunston wasn't going along!" cried his sister.

"Well, you can't have too many protectors, in such a wild portion of our
country," and Dave laughed, for he knew as well as did all of them that
the trip through Yellowstone Park is a perfectly safe one.

By and by Ben walked around the garden with Laura, while Dave took
Jessie. It was moonlight and perhaps some sentimental things were said.
Anyway, when Dave and Jessie came back he held her arm and both looked
very contented. Then Ben had to go, and Dave walked down to the gateway
with him and spoke about Nat Poole.

"Well, if he reforms he's a good one," was all Ben said. He and Nat had
been on the outs for a long while.

"He'll do it," answered Dave. "At least, I hope so."




CHAPTER XI

OVERHEARD IN THE SUMMER-HOUSE


"Dave, what do you think! I saw Link Merwell this morning!"

It was Laura who spoke, as she burst into her brother's room, where the
youth was looking over the things he expected to take with him on his
trip West.

"You saw Link Merwell!" cried Dave, dropping some collars he held in his
hand. "Where?"

"Down on Main Street, near the post-office."

"Did he speak to you?"

"Oh, no, the minute he noticed that I saw him he hurried out of sight
around the corner. I followed to the corner, but when I got there he had
gone."

"Was Job Haskers with him?"

"I didn't see him."

"Humph! This is interesting, to say the least," mused Dave. He thought
of what Nat Poole had told him, and of what Merwell and Haskers had
attempted at the Morr homestead. "I'll have to look into this," he
added, aloud.

"Oh, Dave, do you think he'll try to do something more round here--or at
the jewelry works?"

"I'll warn Mr. Wadsworth, Laura, and he can notify the police. But it's
queer Merwell should show himself, knowing there is a warrant out for
his arrest. Weren't you mistaken?"

"I don't think so. Of course he had on a slouch hat, drawn down over his
eyes, and an unusual suit of clothing, but I am pretty certain it was
Merwell."

"Then Haskers must be here, too. They travel together." Dave heaved a
sigh. "It's too bad! I wish they were in China, or at the North Pole!"

It was two days after Dave's arrival at Crumville and most of the time
had been spent in getting ready for the trip to Montana. Roger and Phil
were coming to the house that afternoon, and Dave had received a
telegram from Shadow Hamilton that he would accompany the tourists as
far as Yellowstone Park. The other lads were unable to make the
necessary arrangements.

It was lunch time and Dave lost no time in going to Mr. Wadsworth, who
had just come in from his jewelry works. Both of them, accompanied by
Dave's father, went into the library to talk the matter over, so that
Jessie and her mother might not be disturbed.

"I'll see the police about this," said Mr. Wadsworth, when he had heard
about Merwell. "If possible, we must place this young scamp where that
fellow Jasniff is, behind the bars."

"I wish they could arrest Haskers, too," sighed Dave.

"I don't see how we can--we have no charge against him," answered the
manufacturer.

It was about three o'clock when Roger and Phil came in. As my old
readers know, the senator's son and Dave's sister were on unusually good
terms with each other, and the greeting between them was very cordial.

"But I don't like you for one thing, Roger," said Laura, half
reproachfully. "I don't like this idea of Dave going off to look for
that lost mine."

"Oh, we won't be away from you long, Laura."

"And the danger--not only to Dave but to--to you," went on the girl, and
gave him a look that meant much.

"We'll be careful," answered the senator's son. "But I hate awfully to
worry you," he added, in a lower tone.

For Phil, Laura had some good news, which was to the effect that Belle
Endicott, the daughter of the owner of Star Ranch, where the young folks
had spent such an enjoyable summer, had written that she would join the
party at Livingston, for the trip through Yellowstone Park. Phil had
always admired Belle, she was so dashing and so full of fun, and the
news was just to his liking.

"We'll have the best times ever!" he cried. "That is, after Dave and
Roger and Shadow and I get back from locating that lost mine!"

"You talk as if it was going to be the easiest thing in the world to
locate the Landslide Mine!" laughed Roger. "I think it is going to be
hard work--and we may not get a trace of it."

"Did you bring those papers and that map?" questioned Dave.

"I did."

"Let us go over them now," cried Phil. But this was not to be, for there
were other things to attend to just then, and the girls demanded a good
share of the boys' attention.

The following morning found the three youths in a summer-house attached
to the Wadsworth estate. This was located down near a tiny brook and was
overgrown with vines and bushes. It was a cozy retreat, especially on
such a hot day in July, and the boys proceeded to make themselves at
home by throwing off their coats and caps.

"Now let us get down to business on this thing," said Dave; whereupon
the senator's son brought forth his papers, and the map of the mining
district wherein the Landslide Mine was supposed to be located.

"That lost mine is supposed to be somewhere along this old trail," said
Roger, pointing with his finger. "This trail is known as the Rodman
Trail, because a fellow named Billy Rodman discovered it. As near as I
can make out, the papers say the mine was on this Rodman Trail, half a
mile north of Stony Cut and to the west of the Four Rocks."

"Huh! That ought to be dead easy to locate," was Phil's comment. "All we
have to do is to walk along the trail half a mile beyond Stony Cut and
then to the west of the Four Rocks,--and there you are."

"Exactly, except for two things," replied Roger. "The landslide wiped
out Stony Cut and the Four Rocks, too."

"Oh!"

"But some one must have some idea where Stony Cut was located," said
Dave.

"My idea is to hunt up that old miner, Abe Blower, and see if he can't
locate Stony Cut for us, even approximately, and tell us something about
Four Rocks--how it used to look before the great landslide. Then, after
we've got that information, we'll start on the hunt."

"Do you think we'll find Abe Blower in Butte, Montana?" asked Phil.

"More than likely. He was there some time ago, mother heard. He and
Uncle Maurice used to be great chums."

"And are you sure the mine is valuable?" queried Phil, after a pause.

"It must be, otherwise my uncle wouldn't have been so anxious about it."

Again the boys went over the papers and also the map, talking the
proposed trip over from various points of view. They all agreed that
locating the lost mine would be no easy task.

"Supposing somebody else locates it?" said Phil, presently. "Couldn't he
lay claim to it?"

"I don't know about that--I suppose so, since the mine is now completely
lost."

"I hope you can find this Abe Blower and get him to go with us," said
Dave. "An old prospector like that ought to know that territory well."

"Blower does know it--so they say."

"Did you ever meet him?" questioned Phil.

"No, I never even heard of him until Uncle Maurice died and left his
property to mother."

"Then you don't know what kind of a man he is?"

"Oh, he must be pretty nice, or my uncle wouldn't have had him for a
friend. I've no doubt that he is rough--many of that sort are--but I
feel certain----"

Roger stopped short, as a strange crashing in some bushes back of the
summer-house reached his ears and the ears of the others.

"What's that?" cried Dave. "Some animal?"

"Hi, what are you doing there?" came, in the voice of the Wadsworth
gardener. "Come here, I want to talk to you!"

"Somebody is in those bushes!" exclaimed Roger, and ran from the
summer-house, followed by his chums.

They were just in time to find Joseph, the new gardener, running after a
young fellow who was making his way through an apple orchard on the
other side of the brook. Joseph was somewhat stout and not quick of
foot, and the young fellow easily outdistanced him, leaped the orchard
fence, and hurried down the back road.

"Who was it, Joseph?" demanded Dave, when the gardener came up, all out
of breath.

"I--don't--know--sir!" gasped the man, puffing for breath.
"He--was--hiding--in the bushes back of--the--summer-house."

"Hiding here!" cried Dave. He looked at his chums. "Can it have been
Merwell?" he murmured.

"Would he dare come here?" asked Phil.

"He dared to come to Crumville, after he knew there was a warrant out
for his arrest."

"How did that fellow look?" questioned Roger.

"I didn't see his face, sir," answered the gardener, who had now
recovered somewhat. "He had on a soft hat and a brown, baggy suit."

"That's the way Merwell was togged out, so Laura said!" cried Dave.
"Fellows, it must have been Link! Now what do you know about that!"

"Do you think he heard what we said?" asked Roger, much disturbed.

"He must have, if he was hiding in those bushes," answered Phil.

"Wonder how long he was there?"

None of the boys could answer that question, nor could the gardener
enlighten them. Joseph had been coming along the side of the orchard
when he had espied the fellow and had called to him, thinking it was
some boy from Crumville who had sneaked up to steal some of the orchard
fruit. He had been surprised when the fellow dashed away so quickly.

"Maybe he wasn't alone," suggested Roger. "Let us take a look around."

This was done, but nobody else seemed to be near. Much disturbed, the
three lads walked all over the place, and even down the back road in the
direction the intruder had fled.

"If it was Merwell he must have heard all that was said," remarked the
senator's son, gravely.

"If he did, it won't do him any good," answered Phil. "I don't think
he'll hunt for that mine."

"He may follow us and try to make trouble," returned Dave. "He is very
bitter--and so is Job Haskers. They'd put themselves out a whole lot to
give us a black eye, so to speak."

"Oh, I know that."

Much disturbed, the three youths returned to the house, where Roger put
his map and papers in a safe place in his trunk--the one he was to take
on the trip West. In the meantime Dave telephoned to the police, telling
them that Merwell had been seen in the vicinity of the Wadsworth
mansion. He was glad of the fact that Mrs. Wadsworth and the girls had
gone out to do some shopping, for he did not wish to alarm them further.

In the meantime, down the hot and dusty road in the rear of the orchard
ran the young fellow who had leaped the fence. It was indeed Link
Merwell, sour-faced, and with that same cunning look as of old in his
eyes.

He kept on for fully a quarter of a mile, then suddenly plunged into a
strip of woodland. There, beside a large stream of water, were the ruins
of an old stone house.

Link Merwell stopped running and after a stealthy look around, emitted a
clear, short whistle. This he repeated twice.

From behind the ruins of the stone house a man appeared, with a soft hat
drawn well down over his forehead. The man was Job Haskers.

"Back again, eh?" snapped the former teacher of Oak Hall. "Did you do
it?" he questioned, curiously.

"No, I didn't get the chance," answered Link Merwell. He sank on a log
and fanned himself with his hat.

"Humph! Better let it go then. If they see you, they'll be after you."

"They are after me, Haskers."

"They are! Then let us get out at once!" And the former teacher plainly
showed his nervousness.

"I'm willing," returned Link Merwell. "I've changed my mind about doing
something here," he went on. "We can do something somewhere
else--something that will pay us both big."

"What do you mean?"

"We can go after a fortune that is coming to Roger Morr's mother. It's
the Landslide Mine, and it's lost. Haskers, if we can locate that mine,
our fortunes are made! Come on, and I'll tell you all about it while we
are getting away from this place. We must go West just as fast as we can
make it!"




CHAPTER XII

ON THE WAY WEST


"Off at last!"

"Hurrah for the West!"

"And the Landslide Mine, Roger, don't forget that!"

"What a splendid day for beginning the trip!"

"Say, we make quite a crowd, don't we?"

"Wonder if the train will be on time, Dave?"

"I suppose so. Special excursions are supposed to start on time. Is
everybody here, and have we all our baggage?"

"I've got all of mine," returned Laura. "How about you, Jessie?"

"I've got my hand-bag. The trunk went with the other trunks."

"Say, seeing this crowd, puts me in mind of a story," burst out Shadow
Hamilton. "Once some tourists--"

"Oh, Shadow!" came from several in concert.

"Better keep the story until after we are on the way," cried Dave,
gayly. "We'll have plenty of time on the train. It's a four-days' trip
to Yellowstone Park, remember."

"Here comes the train!" was the cry.

The scene was the Crumville station. The little platform was crowded
with the folks who were going on the personally-conducted tour to that
place of many wonders, Yellowstone Park. Mr. Basswood was on hand,
wearing a blue and gold badge, and so was one of the local ministers,
and these two had charge of the tour, these and a railroad official who
had to look after connections and meals. In the crowd were the boys and
girls, and also Mrs. Wadsworth, Mr. Dunston Porter, and about forty
others from Crumville and vicinity. The tour was being run at a very
reasonable rate, considering the accommodations afforded, and many were
taking advantage of this fact to see Yellowstone Park, with its
wonderful geysers, its curious boiling "paint pots," and its bears and
buffaloes. The minister had once given a lecture on the Park and this
had stimulated curiosity to go and see this land of such natural
wonders. It is a great national reservation that every American ought to
be glad to visit.

As the train rolled into the station the crowd got aboard and the
porters showed the tourists to their seats. All of the "Porter tribe,"
as Phil dubbed them, were together. Mrs. Wadsworth and another lady had
a stateroom, and next to this Laura and Jessie had a section, with Dave
and Roger opposite. Then came the other boys, and Mr. and Mrs. Basswood
and Dunston Porter. The Crumville contingent filled two cars, and there
were three more cars from neighboring towns. To the front were a baggage
and a dining-car and to the rear an observation car.

"All aboard!" was the cry.

"Good-by!"

"Don't forget to write!"

"Here, Tom, don't forget your valise!"

"Be sure to look for Brother Jack in Chicago!"

"Be sure to get some good pictures!"

"Don't forget some souvenirs!"

Then came more cries, and the waving of numerous handkerchiefs; and off
rolled the excursion train, on its long western trip, Dave waving his
cap to his father and Mr. Wadsworth, who had come down to the depot to
see the party off.

It took some little time to settle down on the train. They had left
Crumville at half-past ten and almost before the young folks knew it, it
was time for lunch. Quite naturally Dave escorted Jessie to the
dining-car, while Roger took Laura, and Mr. Dunston Porter looked after
Mrs. Wadsworth.

"I hope the good weather continues," said Jessie, as she sat down with
Dave. "It will add so much to the trip."

"Oh, I've ordered nothing but the best of weather," he replied, with a
smile.

"Tell me, Dave," she whispered, "did you hear anything more about that
Link Merwell?"

"Not a word, Jessie."

"You are sure it was he who was behind the summer-house that day?"

"Fairly sure. Of course, we might have been mistaken. But we know he was
in Crumville--Laura was sure of that--and it would be just like him to
sneak up to our place to see what he could do to annoy or injure us."

"Oh, if only they would leave you alone, Dave!" and the girl sighed
deeply.

"Don't you worry, Jessie; I can take care of myself."

The lunch was a delightful one, and with so little to do, the young
folks took their time over the repast. Then they drifted back to the
observation car, and the boys saw to it that the girls and the ladies
got good seats, where they might see all that they passed.

The afternoon found them rolling in the direction of Buffalo, which they
were to reach before it was time to retire for the night. Then the train
would pass through Cleveland while they slept, on its way to Chicago.

"I'll be glad to get a look at Chicago," said Ben Basswood, who had not
done much traveling.

"We are to take a tour in a rubber-neck wagon," he added.

"A rubber-neck wagon!" cried his mother. "Benjamin, what language!"

"Well, that is what they usually call the touring automobiles," he
answered, with a grin.

To some of the folks on the trip, going to bed on a train was much of a
novelty, and they watched with interest while the porters made up the
berths.

"Do you remember the time we had Billy Dill along, and what he thought
of sleeping on a train?" remarked Dave, to Phil and Roger.

"I sure do," answered the shipowner's son, with a chuckle. "When he saw
the seats converted into beds he wanted to know if they didn't have a
ballroom aboard, or a church, or a farm," and at the recollection of the
old tar's questions all in the party had to laugh.

"Where is this Billy Dill now?" asked Shadow.

"Safe in an old sailors' home," answered Dave. "He took a trip or two to
sea, but he couldn't stand it, so we had him put in the home."

"You've got him to thank for a good deal, Dave," remarked the senator's
son, in low tones.

"Yes, and I'll never forget Billy Dill," answered our hero, as he
remembered how the old tar had helped him to find his Uncle Dunston, as
related in detail in "Dave Porter in the South Seas."

Mr. Dunston Porter had found some congenial spirits in the
smoking-compartment of the car and spent a good deal of his time there.
He met a man who had done considerable hunting in the West, and the two
"swapped yarns," as Mr. Porter said afterwards.

Only a short stop was made at Buffalo, just long enough to allow the
boys and some of the men to stretch their legs on the depot platform,
and then the excursion train started on its trip along the shore of Lake
Erie towards the great Windy City, as Chicago is sometimes called.

Morning found the party well on the way to Chicago, and that metropolis
of the Great Lakes was reached about noon. Lunch had already been
served, and at the depot all hands found a string of touring automobiles
awaiting them, to take them around to various points of interest,
including the business section, the finer residential district, and
Lincoln Park, with its Zoölogical Garden. Some of the party went in a
different direction, to visit the Stock Yards, that great place where
hundreds of cattle are slaughtered daily.

"By the great tin dipper!" cried Phil, suddenly, when waiting for the
automobile in which he and some others sat to start off. "Look who's
here!"

"Jim Murphy!" cried Dave and Roger, in a breath.

"So it is!" came from Shadow. "Hi, Jim!" he called out. "Don't you know
us any more?"

The young man they addressed, a tall fellow of Irish parentage, who
stood on the sidewalk, turned swiftly. Then his face broke into a grin,
and he rushed forward.

"Sure, an' what do you think of this now!" he exclaimed. "Dave Porter,
an' Phil Lawrence, an' Roger Morr, and Shadow Hamilton, an', sure
enough, Ben Basswood! Say, what is this, a tour o' Oak Hall boys!" and
the former monitor of that institution of learning smiled more broadly
than ever.

"We are on an excursion," explained Dave, and gave some details. "What
are you doing in Chicago, Jim?" he went on.

"Sure I got a job here, after I left Oak Hall."

"What are you doing?" questioned Roger.

"I'm one of the gatemen in the train shed. But I expect to get a better
job than that in a week or two--it's promised to me," added the former
monitor. "An', by the way, lots of Oak Hall boys passing through Chicago
now," he continued.

"What do you mean?" asked Phil, quickly. "Whom did you see?"

"Saw Teddy Fells about a week ago, and two days ago I saw Link Merwell."

"Merwell!" came from several of the youths.

"Was he alone?" questioned Dave.

"No, he had Mr. Haskers with him. Haskers lost his job at the Hall,
didn't he?"

"Yes."

"I thought so, for the minute he and Merwell spotted me they got out of
sight in a hurry."

"Where were they going?" asked Phil.

"I'm sure I don't know. They got off the Eastern Express, and left the
depot in a hurry. They acted as if they didn't want anybody to notice
'em."

"All ready!" came the cry of the man in charge of the touring
automobiles, and then one after another the turnouts rolled away from
the depot.

"Shall we stay here and look into this?" asked Dave, of Roger and Phil.

"What's the use?" returned the shipowner's son. "It isn't likely they
are here now." And then the boys waved a good-by to big Jim Murphy, and
the automobile passed out of the former monitor's sight.

Laura and Jessie had heard what was said and they were as much disturbed
as the boys themselves, if not more so.

"Oh, Dave, do you think Haskers and Merwell are following you?" asked
his sister, anxiously.

"They can't be following us if they are ahead of us," he replied, with a
faint smile.

"Well, you know what I mean."

"I don't know what to think, Laura. Merwell may be going West to join
his folks. They are somewhere out there."

"But Haskers----"

"He may be sticking to Link because Link has money--he gets it from his
parents, who don't want to see him caught and sent to prison, as was the
case with Jasniff. I think Job Haskers was always a good sponge when it
came to getting something out of other people."

"Maybe you are right. Oh, I hope we don't meet them on this trip!" And
Laura shuddered; she could not exactly tell why.

The touring trip took the Crumville folks first to the business section
of Chicago, and the man in front, with a megaphone, bawled out the
various points of interest. Then the touring-cars, in a sort of
procession, moved to a residential section, fronting Lake Michigan, with
its palatial homes.

"Just as fine as Riverside Drive, New York," was Dave's comment.

"Every large city in the United States has its beautiful section,"
remarked Dunston Porter.

They were soon in Lincoln Park, and here a stop was made to look at the
animals in the Zoo. The young people had a good deal of fun with the
monkeys, and with a couple of bears that stood up to box each other.

Five o'clock found the party back to the depot, ready to board the train
once more. As they stood near the car steps talking, a porter of the car
touched Roger on the arm.

"Excuse me, Mr. Morr," he said, "but did you send a man here for your
suit-case?"

"I certainly did not!" cried the senator's son.

"You didn't!" gasped the colored porter, and at once showed his
excitement. "Well, one came here, with a written order for your
suit-case, and I done gave it to him!"




CHAPTER XIII

DAVE SEES SOMETHING


"You gave somebody my suit-case!" cried the senator's son, while a
number of tourists gathered around, to learn what was going on.

"Yes, sah!" returned the colored porter of the car. Plainly he was much
distressed. "He had an order, sah," he added, and fumbled in one pocket
after another, at last bringing out a crumbled bit of writing paper.
"Here it is, sah!"

Roger took the slip and read it, with Dave and Phil looking over his
shoulders. The sheet read as follows:

_"Porter, Car Medora: Deliver to bearer my suit-case. Roger A. Morr."_

"This is a forgery--I never wrote it!" cried the senator's son. "It's
some swindler's trick!"

"I--I didn't know you didn't write it," faltered the porter. "I axed the
man where you was and he said you was visitin' his house and wanted to
show him something you had in the case."

"Do you know what I think?" exclaimed Dave. "I think this is the work
of Link Merwell!"

"Yes, and Job Haskers," added Phil. "They are working together."

"But why did they steal my suit-case?" asked Roger. "Do you
suppose----?" He stopped short, for strangers were about. He was on the
point of mentioning the map and instructions he carried for locating the
Landslide Mine. Dave and Phil, as well as Ben and Shadow, understood.

"Did you have anything in the case outside of your clothing?" whispered
the shipowner's son.

"Only a few things of no importance," answered Roger. He tapped his
breast pocket. "Those papers are here, and my money is here, too."

"Good!" murmured Dave. "Then Merwell and Haskers will be sold--outside
of getting your clothing."

The porter was closely questioned, but could give no very good
description of the man who had presented the order for the suit-case.

"I was busy--waitin' on an old lady wot was sick," he explained. "I jess
read that order and got the suit-case, and he went off in a hurry. I'm
mighty sorry I let him have the bag. But he had the order, all signed,"
and the porter rolled his eyes mournfully.

"I can't say that I blame you," answered Roger. "But after this----"

"I won't give away nuffin to nobody," cried the porter, quickly.

The matter was talked over for several minutes, and then it was time for
the train to leave Chicago. The paper looked as if it might be in Link
Merwell's handwriting and the boys concluded that he was the guilty
party. Probably he had come to the train, knowing our friends were away
on the sight-seeing tour, and possibly he had been disguised, maybe with
a false mustache, or wig, or both. The porter was almost certain the man
had worn a heavy black mustache.

"Well, all I lost was one suit of clothes, some shirts and collars, a
few neckties and some underclothes, and a comb and brush, and
toothbrush," remarked Roger, when the train was once more on its way.
"It's a total loss of about sixty dollars."

"Maybe you can make the railroad pay it," suggested Shadow.

"Perhaps. But I am thankful that those rascals didn't get what they were
after. They must have thought I carried those papers in the suit-case."
Such was indeed the truth, and it was Merwell who had forged Roger's
signature and gotten the traveling bag. It may be added here that, later
on, the railroad company offered to pay for the loss of the suit-case
and its contents, doing this very promptly when it was learned that the
loser was the son of a United States senator.

On and on rolled the excursion train, and after the excitement attending
the loss of the suit-case was over, the boys and girls settled down to
enjoy themselves. Dave and the other lads loaned Roger such things as he
needed, until he could get at his trunk in the baggage-car.

The next morning found the train in St. Paul, and there the tourists
spent a day, riding around the city and visiting Minneapolis, which is
but a short distance away. By nightfall they were on board once more and
bound for Livingston, a small place, where a branch-line runs a distance
of about fifty miles southward to Gardiner, the northern entrance to
Yellowstone Park. At Livingston, Dave and his chums were to separate
from the others and keep on westward to Butte, where they hoped to fall
in with Abe Blower, the old miner and prospector.

"Oh, Dave, it won't be long now before we separate!" said Jessie with a
sigh. It was the second day of the trip after leaving St. Paul, and the
two were by themselves on the observation end of the train.

"Well, I don't think it will be for long," he said, as cheerfully as
possible. "We'll soon join you in the Park."

"I--I wouldn't mind it so much if it was not for that Link Merwell--and
that old Haskers!" continued the girl. "Oh, Dave, you must be careful!"
and she caught him by the arm.

"I'm going to keep my eyes open for them," Dave answered, and, as nobody
was looking, he caught her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "Will you
miss me, Jessie, while I am gone?" he continued, in a low tone.

"Terribly!" she whispered.

"I'll miss you, too. But it sha'n't be for long that I'll be away--I
promise you that."

"Oh, you must find the mine if you can, Dave. I rather think the Morrs
are depending on it. Laura said Roger looked very much worried when he
got that letter in St. Paul."

"Yes, matters are not going well with the senator's affairs--I know
that, Jessie. If he gets out of politics he'll have to do something
else. Finding this lost gold mine would be a big lift for the whole
family."

Then Laura came out, in company with Roger, and soon the others
followed. It was a perfect day, as clear as could be, and off in the
distance could be seen the mountains.

"Going to shoot any bears out there in the Park?" asked Shadow, of
Dunston Porter, with a grin.

"Hardly, Shadow, since outsiders are not allowed to carry firearms,"
replied Dave's uncle. "Only the United States soldiers are armed in the
Park."

"Somebody told me the bears were tame enough to eat out of your hand,"
said Phil.

"Maybe they are, but I shouldn't advise anybody to feed them that way,"
answered Mr. Porter. "A bear isn't naturally a sociable creature."

It had been decided that Dunston Porter should go into the Park with the
ladies and the girls, letting the boys shift for themselves in the
search for Abe Blower and the lost Landslide Mine. An hour before the
time for parting came Dunston Porter called Dave, Roger, and Phil to
him, in a car that was practically vacated at the time.

"Now, I want to caution all of you to be careful," said the old hunter
and traveler. "This isn't the East, remember. It's the West, and in some
places it is as wild and woolly as can be. But I don't think you'll have
any trouble if you mind your own business and keep your eyes open. Don't
rely too much on strangers, and I think it will be wise for all of you
to keep together as much as possible. Don't show any more cash than you
have to. And remember, you can always reach us in the Park, by telegraph
or long-distance telephone."

"We'll try to take care of ourselves," said Dave; and then his uncle
continued to give the youths advice, on one subject or another, until it
was time to get ready to leave the train.

"Livingston!" was the cry presently, and the excursion train rolled into
the long depot. It was to stop there for fifteen minutes and then
proceed to Gardiner.

"There is Belle!" cried Laura.

"I see her!" put in Phil, and was the first to reach the platform and
shake the girl from Star Ranch by the hand. Belle Endicott looked the
picture of health, and was glad to greet them all.

"Sorry we can't visit awhile," said Roger.

"We'll do that after we come back," added Phil.

"Well, good-by everybody!" cried Dave, shaking hands with many, an
example followed by those who were to go with him.

"Wish I was going on that hunt for the mine with you," said Ben, who had
to remain with his folks.

"So do I," added Shadow, who was to stay with Ben.

"Never mind, we'll rely on you to look after the girls," answered Dave.

"Oh, we can do that," said Ben, with a grin.

"Say, that puts me in mind of a story," cried Shadow. "No reflection on
the girls here," he added, hastily. "Once on a time a young minister
paid a visit to some relatives in the country. He got a letter stating
they'd be glad to have him come and would he attend a picnic in the
woods and help to take care of four girls. He wrote back that he would
be delighted. When he arrived and started for the picnic he found the
four girls waiting for him--four old maids from thirty to forty years of
age!" And at this joke a smile went around, in which the girls joined.

Soon the last of the good-bys had been said. The girls were on the
observation end of the last car, and as the train rolled onward towards
Yellowstone Park they waved their handkerchiefs and the boys on the
platform swung their caps. Then the train slowly disappeared from view.

"Well, here we are," said Phil, with something like a sigh.

"We've got an hour to wait before that train comes along for Butte,"
said Roger, consulting his watch.

"How far is Butte?" went on the shipowner's son.

"About a hundred miles, as the crow flies," answered Dave. "But I guess
it is longer by the railroad, and we'll have some climbing to do--to get
into the Rockies."

"Say, supposing we ask the men around here if they saw anything of
Merwell and Haskers?" suggested the senator's son.

"It won't do any harm," answered Dave.

Inquiries were made of the baggage-master, a ticket-seller, and half a
dozen other men around the depot. But none of them remembered having
seen the pair mentioned.

"They probably kept out of sight," was Dave's comment. "They would be
afraid we were on their trail, or that we had telegraphed ahead about
them."

From the station-master they learned that their train was two hours
behind time, and would not reach Butte until late that night. This being
so, they left their baggage on check at the depot and took a stroll
around, looking at the sights. Then they found a small restaurant and
got what they called supper, although it was not a very good meal.

When the train came along it proved to be crowded, for there had been a
sale of public and private lands not far away and many of the
disappointed would-be buyers were on board.

"We can't take any through passengers," said the conductor, and waved
the boys back.

"We only want to go to Butte," answered Roger.

"Oh, all right then. Take the forward car, next to the baggage-car. But
I don't think you'll find any seats. We are swamped because of the land
sale."

The boys ran forward, after making sure that their baggage was tumbled
into a baggage-car. As the conductor had said, the cars were
overcrowded, and they had to stand up in the aisle. A number of the men
were smoking and they continued to do so, even though it was against the
rules.

"Pretty rough-looking crowd," whispered Phil, after the train had
started.

"Not all bad," was Dave's comment. "But some of them are certainly the
limit," and he nodded towards one crowd that were talking loudly and
using language that was anything but choice. In this crowd one fellow in
particular, a tall, thin, leathery individual, called by the others Sol
Blugg, seemed to be a leading spirit.

About half an hour had passed, and the conductor had just gone through
collecting tickets, when the man called Blugg pushed up alongside
another man who sat on the arm of a rear seat.

"Say, do you know what Staver jest told me?" he exclaimed.

"No, what?" demanded the other man.

"He says as how he is almost sure Abe Blower put this crimp in our land
deal," responded the man called Blugg.

"Abe Blower!" exclaimed the other. "Say, maybe thet's right. Blower
ain't got no use fer our crowd. Well, if he did it, he better look
out!"




CHAPTER XIV

IN BUTTE


Dave overheard the conversation between the two rough-looking men in the
crowded car, and so did Phil and Roger. All glanced at each other
suggestively.

"Do you think they are talking about the Abe Blower we want to find?"
asked Roger of Dave, in a whisper.

"More than likely, Roger," was the answer. "It is not likely that there
are two Abe Blowers in this part of the country. It's not a common name,
like Smith."

"Listen," whispered Phil, for the two men had begun to talk again.

"I lost a lot of money by havin' thet land deal fall through," growled
the fellow called Blugg.

"So did I," responded the man on the arm of the car seat. "We all did."

"If Abe Blower knows we are on his trail he'll keep out o' sight."

"Maybe; although Blower wa'n't never the fellow to take backwater,"
responded the other, doubtfully.

"We'll git him yet; see if we don't," was the savage response. And then
followed some conversation in such a low tone that the boys could not
hear what was said.

But it was easy to surmise one thing, which was that these men hated Abe
Blower most cordially. And because of this, and because they had heard
that Blower was a strictly upright, honest man, the chums concluded that
these fellows in the car had been trying in some manner to put through
some land deal that was not strictly fair, and that Abe Blower had
foiled their designs.

Presently a third man, a fellow named Larry Jaley, joined the others.
All were very bitter against Abe Blower, and each vowed that he would
"git square" with the old prospector sooner or later. From their talk
the boys learned that the men, along with some others of the crowd, were
stopping in Butte at the Solid Comfort House, a place that, so they
afterwards learned, bore a very shady reputation. Nothing was said about
where Abe Blower was stopping, and the youths did not dare to inquire,
for fear of making the men suspicious.