morning we could
hear the ground working over head and when it came noon we went up
above, as we says, for a breath of fresh air. But while we were eating,
there was a Cousin Jack named Chambers fetched up this old talk about
Mother Trigedgo, and how she'd predicted he'd be killed in a cave if he
didn't quit working in the stope; and when our half-hour's nooning was
up he says: 'I'll not go down that shaft!'

"We were all badly scared, because that ground was always moving, and
finally we agreed that we'd take a full hour off and work till five
o'clock. Well, we waited till after one before we went to the collar and
just as I was stepping into the cage the whole danged stope caved in!"

"Well, sir, I went back to my room and got every dollar I had and gave
Mother Trigedgo the roll. I could easy earn more but if I'd been caught
in that cave they'd never even tried to dig me out. That was the least I
could do, considering what she'd done for me; but Mother Trigedgo took
on so much about it that I told her it was to have my fortune told.
Well, she tried the cards and dice and consulted the signs of the
Zodiac; and then one day when she felt the power strong she poured a
little water in my hand. That made a kind of pool, like these
crystal-gazers use, and when she looked into it she began to talk and
she told me all about my life. Or that is, she told me what she thought
I ought to know, and gave me a copy of the Book of Fate that Napoleon
always consulted. And here it ain't three months till I make this
journey west and find the place she prophesied."

"Yes, and silver, too!" added Old Bunk portentously, "she hit it, down
to a hickey. And now, if you'd like to inspect those claims----"

"No, hold on," protested Big Boy still pondering on his fate, "I've got
to find these treasures myself. And one of them was of gold. What's the
chances around here for that?"

"Danged poor," grumbled Bunker as he saw his hopes gone glimmering,
"don't remember to have seen a color. But say, old Bible Back is
drilling for copper and that's a good deal like gold. Same color,
practically, and you know all these prophecies have a kind of symbolical
meaning. A golden treasure don't necessarily mean gold, and I've got a
claim----"

"Say, who's that up there?" broke in Big Boy uneasily and Old Bunk
looked around with a jerk.

An old, white-haired man, wearing a battered cork helmet, was peering
over the bank and when he perceived that his p