years.

"How's my friend, Dick Hamilton?" he asked, nodding in the direction of
the carriage.

"Dick Hamilton," spoke Tim, in a sort of daze.

"Yes, Dick Hamilton, of Hamilton Corners. I suppose he came out here to
see about the mines he and his millionaire father invested in."

"Mines," repeated Tim, somewhat surprised to thus learn that Dick's
object was already discovered.

"Yes, mines," went on the other youth. "Oh, I know all about it. Dick
thought he was cute, pretending to come here with a bunch of college
lads. But I'm on to him, and so are the others."

"Who are you?" asked Tim, boldly.

"Just tell Dick that Simon Scardale was asking for him," replied the
flashily-dressed youth, as he moved away. "I'll not give him my address,
because I don't believe he'd like to call on me, but just tell him Simon
Scardale was asking for him," and, with a mocking bow, Simon jumped on a
pony and galloped off down the street.

CHAPTER XXIV

A NIGHT TRIP

Dick and his chums saw many interesting sights on their drive to the
mines. All about them were evidences of the hustling West, and the noise
of the stamping mills, or machines, which crush up the rocks and ore to
enable the precious metals to be extracted from them could be heard on
every side. They met many teams hauling ore from the mines to distant
"stamps," and saw throngs of miners in their rough, but picturesque,
garb, tramping along.

"Do you think they'll let us visit the mines?" asked Dick of the driver.
"We want to find out all we can about 'em."

"Oh, I guess so. This is a free and easy country. Visitors are always
welcome, providin' they don't want to know too much," and the driver
winked his eye.

"Too much?" repeated Dick.

"Yes. Lots of men out here don't care to have their past history raked
over. It ain't always healthy, son, to ask a man where he came from, or
why he left there. There's secrets, you understand, that a man don't
like strangers to know."

"I understand," replied Dick, with a laugh. "But we only want to see how
they get the gold out of mines."

"Oh, yes, you can see that," was the driver's answer. "But there's lots
of mines nearer than the Hop Toad and the Dolphin; lots of 'em."

"Aren't those good mines?" asked Dick, anxious to get the opinion of
what might be presumed to be an unprejudiced observer.

"Well, so folks say," was the cautious answer. "All mines is good--until
they're found out to be bad. I guess they