“And where are they now?” asked Ned.
“That’s the trouble, son,” said the miner. “They’re hid in a place that I don’t know as we’ll be able to get ’em out of or not.”
“Why?” Jerry wanted to know.
“Because I hid em down in a deep valley, right on the border line between Montana and Canada. It’s the hardest valley to get into and out of that I ever saw. There’s only one trail that I know of, and when I came back on it, after hiding my wealth, a landslide started and I don’t know as anyone will ever be able to get down into the valley again.”
Bob murmured something that sounded like “airship.”
“What’s that?” cried Mr. Brill. “An airship? Well I never——”
“I told you these boys had an airship,” interrupted Jim Nestor. “If that valley’s on top of the ground they can get to it. But go on, let that part go for now. Tell ’em the rest of the story, and why you hid the gold.”
“I’ll shorten it a bit,” resumed the prospector. “As soon as I had my nuggets, I found out that I was being watched and trailed by some of the grub-stakers I had cut loose from. They were after me, and as they were desperate men I realized that they would rob me if I started away with the nuggets. That’s why I hid my gold.”
“But why couldn’t you get a posse—have the sheriff and some of his deputies protect you?” asked Jerry, who thought the man’s explanation a bit queer.
“Well, son, I s’pose I could have done that,” said Mr. Brill, slowly; “but I tell you—I’m a peculiar man, and for some years back a host of poor relations have been depending on me to support ’em. I’m about tired of it, and now that I have struck it rich, if they heard about it, I’d never have any peace. They’d all want to come and live with me, and my sixty nuggets wouldn’t last long with that crowd. So that’s why I don’t want much of a fuss when I go to claim ’em. I want to dig ’em up nice and quiet like, and enjoy my wealth myself.”