artly sunk, and not yet proved to
be good mines), for large sums. Tom was immensely interested in these
narrations, and was eagerly listening when his father came in to find
him.

"Guess you'd better let me have that boy of yourn to make a miner of,
Colonel," said this new friend to Mr. Chester. "He's got plenty of
_sand_."

Mr. Chester knew that people in the West give titles to almost every
one, but it was some time before either he or Tom found out that it was
a great compliment to say that any one had "sand," which means, in the
rough but very expressive language of the mountains, that one possesses
bravery and great strength and force of character.

After seeing all the sights of Denver, Tom and his father took the train
one morning for a little town called Golden, near the foot-hills. Here
they were transferred to a railroad only three feet wide, and found an
open or "observation" car, from which they could see very well. The
train entered what is called a canyon, or gorge, down which poured the
waters of Clear Creek (which, by-the-way, were not clear at all, but
very muddy). It wound up this canyon, the walls of which seemed to come
together away over the heads of the passengers. No boy who is fortunate
enough to make a journey to Colorado should fail to see this remarkable
place. The little engine tugged at the train, and dragged it up the
steep canyon, and by the side of the winding stream, until it came to a
valley surrounded by high hills, where is the town of Idaho Springs.
Here Tom and his father left the train, and walked to a neat-looking
hotel, where they took up their quarters. Mr. Chester already felt the
benefit of the change of climate, and he wanted to spend much time in
excursions to different points. He and Tom went up by the railroad to
Georgetown, and drove to Central City, and at both places they saw a
great many mines. They went down in buckets, lowered by great ropes, six
and seven hundred feet into the shafts, and then sometimes came out by
tunnels cut from the sides of the hills. They saw mills in which gold
ore was crushed by stamps, or great iron bars falling heavily on it, and
works where silver ore was put into hot furnaces--in fact, they saw so
many things that Tom became rather bewildered. All the time, however, he
found himself thinking about what the miner had told him in Denver, and
longing to try his own hand at prospecting. When he told his father, one
day, that he would like