're getting gold out of both
mines. Leastways, that's what the men that's working 'em say."

When the buckboard with its passengers arrived at the Hop Toad mine the
driver called to a man who seemed to be in charge:

"Say, Nick, here's a crowd of college students that want to see how you
make gold. Any objections?"

The man addressed looked up quickly. Dick knew at once, from a
description the lawyer had sent to Mr. Hamilton, that the man was Nick
Smith, commonly known as "Forty-niner Smith," an old-time miner, who was
in charge of the active operations at the two mines Dick and his father
were interested in. But Dick resolved not to disclose his own identity
unless it became necessary to do so.

"Come on, and welcome," responded Forty-niner Smith, with an assumed
heartiness, but Dick did not like the look on the man's face. "We're
just settin' off a blast," the miner went on. "Th' tenderfeet kin see a
bucket full of gold in a minute."

The boys joined a group of waiting miners, who regarded them curiously.
All about were piles of ore and, not far away, were the ruins of a
stamp-mill.

"Our stamp's out of business," said Smith, noting Dick's glance at it.
"We send our ore, and that from the Dolphin, down to the Wild Tiger
mill. They're crushing it for us. Ah, boys, there she goes!"

There was a dull rumble from a hole in the ground, and the earth seemed
to tremble. Then some smoke lazily floated from the mouth of the mine.

"As soon as it clears away they'll send up some gold ore," went on
Smith, and, in a short time, a big iron bucket came to the surface on a
strong, wire cable. It was filled with what looked like pieces of stone,
but Smith, taking some of the fragments, passed them to Dick.

"See that yellow stuff!" he exclaimed, pointing to numerous shining
particles. "That's pure gold! Here, take some samples along," he added,
in a burst of generosity. "We'll never miss 'em," and he filled the
hands of the four boys with the precious metal. "This is one of the
richest mines in this locality," he added. "Now come on over and I'll
show you the Dolphin," and he led the way toward the ruins of the
stamp-mill.

"Somebody dropped a dynamite cartridge near it," he explained as he
passed it. "But we don't mind. We've ordered two new ones. I guess
they've got through blasting here. Yes, here comes some ore," he went on
as a bucket of the stuff that looked like broken cobblestones came to
the surface.

Dick's he