“Why, for the gold on its banks, of course,” said Johnson. “Didn’t I say that? I meant to. The man who discovered it said there were pebbles of gold on the shores. He brought back a pocket full to prove it. I got the fever quite a few months ago, but nothing has come of all my efforts, and this time I nearly died. It was terrible up in the mountains. There’s not a soul there I believe.”
“And you didn’t even get a glimpse of the lake?” asked Ned.
“Nary a look, young man. But I’m sure it’s there. I’m going back to town, get a new outfit and some provisions, and have another try.”
He was another example of how the gold fever grips one.
“Maybe we’ll come across the lake, though we’re not looking for it,” said Jerry.
“Maybe you will,” assented the prospector. “That’s generally the way. The first man was not hunting for it, but he came upon it one night when the moon was shining. If you do find it, look out for the old hermit, that’s all.”
[CHAPTER XVI]
A LONELY CABIN
“What hermit?” asked Jerry.