e side-trail and put us in blind."

It was another clear day, but the breeze from the mountains was fresher,
so that riding was not so tiresome as it had been on the first day out.
The trail was wide, in fact often used by wagons and carts, so that our
friends could ride two abreast.

"Not much of a farming country around here," remarked Dave, as he looked
at the general barrenness of the aspect. Here and there were clumps of
trees and patches of rough grass, and that was all.

"The farming country is further down, in the valleys," answered Tom
Dillon. "Some pretty good soil, too. But up this way it's only good for
mining. But that's good enough--if you've got a paying mine," and his
kindly eyes twinkled.

"You bet!" replied Dave, slangily. "Oh, I do hope we find this mine," he
added, in a lower tone. "The Morr family need it."

"I thought the senator was putty well fixed."

"He was, but he isn't now--and there is danger of his losing his office
this fall. If he does lose it, and we don't find the mine, I am afraid
it is going to go rather hard with the family."

"I see. Well, we'll do our best--nobuddy can do more."

"About how much further is that Landslide district from here?"

"Not over sixty miles as the crows fly. But by the trails it's every bit
o' twice that distance. An' some putty stiff travelin', too, in some
spots, believe me!" added the old miner.

"Do you think you can stand it?"

"Sure I can. And I like it, too, lad. I git tired o' sittin' around the
hotel, doin' nuthin' but readin' the papers and trying to be what they
call a gent of leisure. I was brought up on hard work, and outdoor life,
and I just have to git back to it onct in a while. If you hadn't come
along as you did, most likely I would have dug out for the diggin's
alone afore long."

"It's a grand life to lead--this one in the open air," said Dave,
filling his lungs with the ozone from the mountains.

"Best in the world, lad. It's the only life fer me, too. If I had to sit
in an office all day, or around a hotel where I had to wear one of them
biled shirts and a coat cut like a tack puller, I'd die, believe me! I'd
rather wear a gray shirt, an' eat off a tin plate, any day!"

By noon they came to a little mountain stream of the freshest and purest
of water and there they went into temporary camp. A tiny blaze was
kindled, and they made some coffee, which they drank while eating some
sandwiches Dick Logan had put up for them.