lly as we were all soft for
it. The sun poured down on our backs with burning intensity; our hands
blistered; and the round rocks and half-cemented rubble that made the
bar were not the easiest things in the world to remove. However, we kept
at it. Yank and I, having in times past been more or less accustomed to
this sort of thing, got off much easier than did poor Johnny. About two
feet down we came to a mixed coarse sand and stones, a little finer than
the top dirt. This seemed to us promising, so we resumed our washing
operations. They bore the same results as had the first; which was just
the whole of nothing.

"We've got to hit it somewhere," said Johnny between his teeth. "Let's
try another place."

We scrambled rather wearily, but with a dogged determination, out of our
shallow hole. Our blue-eyed, long-bearded friend was sitting on a
convenient boulder near at hand, his pipe between his teeth, watching
our operations.

"Got any tobacco, boys?" he inquired genially. "Smoked my last until
to-night, unless you'll lend."

Yank produced a plug, from which the stranger shaved some parings.

"Struck the dirt?" he inquired. "No, I see you haven't." He stretched
himself and arose. "You aren't washing this stuff!" he cried in
amazement, as his eye took in fully what we were about.

Then we learned what we might have known before--but how should
we?--that the gold was not to be found in any and every sort of loose
earth that might happen to be lying about, but only in either a sort of
blue clay or a pulverized granite. Sometimes this "pay dirt" would be
found atop the ground. Again, the miner had to dig for it.

"All the surface diggings are taken up," our friend told us. "So now you
have to dig deep. It's about four feet down where I'm working. It'll
probably be deeper up here. You'd better move back where you were."

Yank, stretched himself upright.

"Look here," he said decidedly; "let's get a little sense into
ourselves. Here's our pore old hosses standing with their packs on, and
we no place to stay, and no dinner; and we're scratchin' away at this
bar like a lot of fool hens. There's other days comin'."

Johnny and I agreed with the common sense of the thing, but reluctantly.
Now that we knew how, our enthusiasm surged up again. We wanted to get
at it. The stranger's eyes twinkled sympathetically.

"Here, boys," said he, "I know just how you feel. Come with me."

He snatched up our bucket and strode bac