And he told them a long and wonderful story about African fleas.
“Ugh!” grunted the old Indian, when Wiley had finished. “Wind-in-the-head biggest blame liar old Joe ebber see.”
Some days later, with the exception of Hodge and Crowfoot, Frank and the rest of his party arrived in Prescott. Hodge and the aged redskin were left, together with one of Pete Curry’s men, to guard the valley after a fashion. Besides going to Prescott for the purpose of seeing his brother and Buckhart off, Frank had several other objects in view. With him he brought considerable ore, taken from the quartz vein they had located in the valley, and also a small leather pouch that was nearly filled with dull yellow grains and particles washed from the placer mine. With these specimens Frank proceeded direct to an assayer, who was instructed to make an assay and give a report.
Following this, Frank set about picking up some genuine miners who knew their business and who could be relied on. It was his purpose to keep a few men at work on the claims while he completed the plans talked over by himself and Hodge and arrange for the transportation to the valley of such machinery as they needed to work the mines. As far as the placer was concerned, this was not such a difficult problem. With the quartz mine, however, it was quite a serious matter, as the valley was far from any railroad and extremely difficult of access.
Frank knew very well that it would cost a big sum of money to begin practical operations on the quartz claim, and already, for a young man of his years, he had his hands pretty full. Hodge, however, had been enthusiastic, and Merry felt that Bart would, with the greatest readiness and satisfaction, remain where he could oversee everything and carry all plans out successfully.
Merry felt that he was greatly indebted to Wiley, and he saw that the sailor had one of the best rooms in the best hotel of Prescott and was provided with every comfort the house could afford. This was not the only way in which Frank intended to reward the captain.
Wiley himself was somewhat “sore” because he had declined to accompany Frank and Bart at the time they had returned to the valley and successfully located Benson Clark’s lost mines.
“’Tis ever thus,” he sighed wearily, when the matter was spoken of. “I will bet eleventeen thousand dollars that I have lost more than a barrel of good opportunities to become rotten with wealth during my sinuous career. Not that I haven’t felt the salubrious touch of real money to an extensive extent, for sometimes I have been so loaded down with it that it rattled out of my clothes every step I took. When I sauntered carelessly along the street in days past I have shed doubloons, and picaroons, and silver shekels at every step, and I have often been followed by a tumultuous throng, who fought among themselves over the coin that rained from my radiant person. Still to-day here I am broke, busted, while the world jogs on just the same, and nobody seems to care a ripityrap. Excuse these few lamentations and wails of woe. By and by I will take a little medicine for my nerves and feel a great deal better.”
“Don’t worry over it, Wiley,” said Frank, laughing. “It will all come out in the wash. I don’t think you will die in the poorhouse.”
“Not on your tintype!” cried the sailor. “I propose to shuffle off this mortal coil in a palace.”