where the man hid it
was obliterated, but that wouldn't hinder the proper person from
unearthing the nugget if he only chanced to dig where it was.

"I have looked for that nugget a good many times, and that is the only
thing that has kept me from finding it; I didn't dig where it was," said
the man, with something like a sigh of regret. "I know it is somewhere
in the mountains, else why should so many persons be looking for it?"

Morning came at last, and after Tom had eaten a hasty breakfast he saw
the pack strapped on his bronco; and the whole thing was done so easily,
with two experienced cowboys at work, that he regarded it as the least
difficult part of his undertaking. He had been told repeatedly to get
the pack on right, and not to unhitch his horse until he did it, or the
bronco would knock him and his burden into the middle of next week and
come home, leaving him to follow after as best he could. But Tom was
sure he had it "down fine," and with a cheerful good-by to the cowboys
who had assembled to see him off, and a hasty slap on the bronco's flank
to help him along, he started gayly for the mountains. When he saw that
camp again, he hoped to have the eight thousand dollar nugget stowed
away in his pack-saddle.

The first day's work Tom could not complain of. The bronco kept up a
lively walk, swinging his head from side to side and turning first into
one canyon and then into another, and did not think it necessary to stop
for anything to eat until he made his way to a little grove of trees,
drew a long breath as he stopped under the shade, and looked around at
Tom as if asking him why he didn't take his pack off. Tom leaned his
rifle against a log and took his pack off very easily, and the horse
immediately began taking his supper. Then Tom picked up his rifle and
looked about him.

"I declare! I believe the whole canyon is full of landslides," said he,
as he gazed at one pile of rubbish after another filled with logs,
rocks, and brush which nature had thrown into the valley, some new and
of recent origin, and others bearing the marks of age upon them. "Hold
on. Isn't that the mark of a spade over there?"

Tom walked over and looked at it. It was the mark of a spade, sure
enough, where a man had commenced digging where the landslide ended, and
had thrown out just earth enough to prove that he had been there, and
that was all. There were other openings of like character, until Tom
counted ten in number. T