“Look at the crowd!” yelled Bob. “I should say they were crazy!”
“What does it all mean?” asked Ned.
“I expect we’re to blame,” replied Mr. Nestor. “We started a gold rush, Harvey.”
“Is there really gold there?” asked Jerry.
“There sure is,” declared Mr. Brill. “You can’t fool me on the yellow stuff.”
“We just had a glimpse of it as we got off the train to come and see you,” explained Jim. “Nothing would do Harvey but he must prospect a bit, and we did—with broom handles we picked up.”
“And the gold was there,” declared his friend. “But it isn’t much that I got, though I’m going to look for more.”
By this time they were close to the crowd. Truly it was a frenzied throng. Men and boys were eagerly digging at the cinders and stone ballast between the rails and ties. Some had picks and shovels and others merely sticks, but one and all were tossing out the dirt, and eagerly looking for traces of gold.
“Here! Here! You’ve got to stop this!” cried the agent. “You’ll have the rails all loose, and the trains will run off the tracks. Oh, won’t somebody get the police? Send in a riot call! I want the militia! I’m going to wire the Governor for troops! I’ve sent for the directors of the railroad! This is awful!” and Mr. Hitter raced up and down the track.
Occasionally he would thrust aside some enthusiastic digger, who seemed to be undermining the rails, but this one’s place was immediately taken by another. Up and down the tracks, for some distance, men and boys, and even some girls, were digging away furiously.