was an old bachelor--and then they heard his will read and learned about
the mine."

"And they couldn't get any trace at all, Roger?" asked Dave, as he
stopped swinging in the hammock he occupied.

"Nothing worth following up. One of the miners thought he had a landmark
located, but, although he spent a good deal of money digging around,
nothing came of it. You see that big landslide seemed to change the
whole face of the country. It took down dirt and rocks, and trees and
bushes, and sent them to new resting places."

"Perhaps the mine was washed away instead of being covered up,"
suggested Phil.

"No, all those who have visited the locality are agreed that the
entrance to the claim must have been covered up."

"Say! I'd like to hunt for that mine!" cried Dave Porter,
enthusiastically.

"So would I," returned Roger Morr, wistfully. "I know my mother would
like to have somebody find it--just to learn if it is really as valuable
as Uncle Maurice thought."

"Well, if you two fellows go West to look for that mine you can count on
having me with you," put in Phil Lawrence. "We were going to decide on
what to do for the next two months. If Roger says the word----"

"Oh, I could do that easily enough," said the senator's son. "But Dave
wrote that he had something up his sleeve. Maybe his plans won't fit
into this."

"But they just will fit in!" cried Dave. "At least, I think they will,"
he added, more slowly. "You say this mine is located in Montana?"

"Yes."

"Well, that isn't very far from Yellowstone Park, is it?"

"No--in fact a corner of the Park is in Montana."

"Then, while the others were taking the trip through Yellowstone Park we
could go out to that mining district and try to locate this missing
mine," went on Dave, with a smile.

"What are you talking about, Dave?" questioned his two chums, in a
breath.

"I'm talking about a personally-conducted tour of the Park that some
folks in and around Crumville are getting up. Mr. Basswood, Ben's
father, is at the head of it. It's a sort of church affair. They have
got my folks interested, and my Uncle Dunston says he will go, and so
will Laura, and Mrs. Wadsworth, and Jessie, and half a dozen others you
know. They thought maybe we boys would want to go, too."

"Wow! All to the merry!" cried Phil, and leaping out of the willow chair
he occupied, he turned a "cart-wheel" on the lawn. "Say, this fits in
better than a set of new teeth, doesn't it?" he wen