t we filled the last place about an hour ago."

Fred's heart sank. If he had been a little earlier, or if he had started
sooner, he might now have had a good job.

"Is there anything else to do around here?" he asked. "I would be glad
to get work of any kind."

"I'm afraid I haven't anything for any one as young as you."

"I am quite strong, though I am only seventeen years old."

"Yes, I must admit you seem a sturdy lad, but, I am sorry to say, I
can't give you any work. If you leave your name and address I'll send
for you, when there is anything."

"Thank you," replied Fred, and he wrote them on a piece of paper the
manager gave him.

"If you were a man now, I could give you work in the mine. But I can't
put boys in there. Have you had any experience in mining?"

"No, but I know something about it from hearing my father tell about it.
He is a miner."

"What is his name?"

Fred told him, and found that, while the manager did not know Mr.
Stanley, he had heard of him.

"I wish, for your father's sake, I could give you work," he said. "I'll
keep you in mind, and you shall have the first job that is open."

"Thank you. I shall try some other places here."

"I would, if I were you, and you can refer to me."

"That is very kind of you."

Fred bade the manager good-morning, and started off to see if there was
not work elsewhere for him. But he found that either all the places were
filled, or that, when there was work, it was of such a nature that he
could not do it.

Somewhat discouraged, he sat down in a shady place to eat his simple
lunch, and, after a drink from a spring, he felt refreshed.

Early that afternoon he had exhausted the possibilities of work in New
Strike.

"I think I'll start back home," he said. "There's no use bothering to
look up Mr. Gardner."

The truth was he disliked to tell the old miner he had not succeeded in
getting work. So Fred started off on his long tramp back to Piddock.

But, as he was passing along the main, and, in truth, the only street of
the town, a voice hailed him.

"Hold on there, Fred," was the cry, and he turned to see the old miner
beckoning to him, from in front of the "Imperial Hotel," as a sign in
front of the one-storied building indicated it to be. "Wait a minute. I
want to speak to you!"

CHAPTER III

THE BURIED TREASURE STORY

Fred turned and walked toward the hotel, the old miner advancing to meet
him.

"Well," asked Mr. Gardner, "h