ound, making inquiries.

The young inventor and his companion proceeded on foot to a small
settlement, where they hired horses on which to make their way about.
They were to be gone two days, and in that time they hoped to get on the
right trail.

CHAPTER XII--THE GREAT STONE HEAD

It was a wild and desolate country in which Tom Swift and Mr. Jenks
were traveling. Villages were far apart, and they were at best but
small settlements. In their journeys from place to place they met few
travelers.

But of these few they made cautious inquiries as to the location
of Phantom Mountain, or the landmark known as the great stone head.
Prospectors, miners and hunters, whom they asked, shook their heads.

"I've heard of Phantom Mountain," said one grizzled miner, "but I
couldn't say where it is. Maybe it's only a fish story--the place may
not even exist."

"Oh, it does, for I've been there!" exclaimed Mr. Jenks.

"Then why don't you go back to it?" asked the miner.

"Because I can't locate it again," was the reply.

"Humph! Mighty queer if you've seen a place once, and can't get to it
again," and the man looked as if he thought there was something strange
about Tom and his companion. Mr. Jenks did not want to say that he had
been taken to the mountain blindfolded, for that would have caused too
much talk.

"I think if we spent to-night in a place where the miners congregate,
listened to their talk, and put a few casual questions to them, more as
if we were only asking out of idle curiosity, we might learn something,"
suggested Tom.

"Very well, we'll try that scheme."

Accordingly, after they had left the suspicious miner the two proceeded
to a small milling town, not far from Indian Ridge. There they engaged
rooms for the night at the only hotel, and, after supper they sat around
the combined dance hall and gambling place.

There were wild, rough scenes, which were distasteful to Tom, and to Mr.
Jenks, but they felt that this was their only chance to get on the right
trail, and so they stayed. As strangers in a western mining settlement
they were made roughly welcome, and in response to their inquiries about
the country, they were told many tales, some of which were evidently
gotten up for the benefit of the "tenderfeet."

"Is there a place around here called Phantom Mountain?" asked Tom, at
length, as quietly as he could.

"Never heard of it, stranger," replied a miner who had done most of the
talking.