“They will scarcely take any pay from us,” said Mary in a low voice, tears in her eyes as she looked at these loyal old friends. “They loved Dad and they feel sure if we can once get the stones and débris cleared away we will find real pay dirt.”
“Old Uncle Eddie has rheumatism,” said Ellen, indicating one of the old men who limped painfully when he walked. “He should have a doctor.”
“And we haven’t the money to pay one,” said Mary sadly.
Later the girls took them to the little shack and showed them a hidden jar half-filled with gold dust that had been sifted from the sand.
“Dad found this before he died,” Mary told her new friends, adding simply: “That is why he was so sure the mine was good.”
But though Ruth and Helen stayed for some time longer and tried to appear as encouraging and cheerful as they could, they were in a saddened and thoughtful mood as they took the long trail homeward.
Ellen accompanied them again, in her capacity of guide to the spot where they had left their horses tethered; then said good-bye to them swiftly and hurried back toward the cabin. She had left some one in charge there, but was afraid the guardian might be gone if she remained too long away.
“They never will be able to do anything up at the mine with the equipment they have,” said Helen, as she and Ruth cantered slowly on toward Knockout Point. “It is like trying to catch a whale with a bent pin on the end of a string.”
Ruth nodded.
“It is the most pathetic sight I ever saw,” she said. “Those three old men working like slaves for the girls just because they liked their father——”