“So I have,” answered Nestor. “But you see it’s in a part of the mountains not very well traveled. I’ve lost my way more than once there. But I reckon I can find the mine. Once I strike the trail leadin’ out of Dead Horse Gulch I’m all right. The mine isn’t far from there.”
If the miner could have looked into the next room he would not have talked so freely concerning the mine. For, in the adjoining apartment was Bill Berry. He listened intently to what Nestor said, and soon was able to tell, from the conversation, who the occupants in the room next to him were.
“A gold mine, eh?” said Bill, softly. “I reckon Noddy and I will get in on that deal. We must profit by this. I wish Noddy would hurry up. We must follow those young cubs.”
Bill, in a measure, was stranded at the hotel. He had reached it after leaving Noddy the night previous, and expected his companion to follow, after repairing the auto, and pick him up. But the encounter between Noddy and the Motor Boys made the former change his plans, and he ran the machine through the village without stopping for Berry. Later, however, Noddy came back and got his companion.
For some time Nestor and the boys conversed about the gold mine, the man telling the lads many stories of western life. Jerry had completed his purchases by dusk, the auto tanks were refilled with gasolene and water, and the start was made early the next morning.
A few hours of travel brought the adventurers to the Mississippi River, and crossing it, they found themselves in Missouri. For several days the auto journeyed on, and Kansas was more than half traversed.
One hot afternoon, passing over a road that led across the rolling prairie, Bob, who was steering, looked ahead and noticed quite a cloud of dust.
“Looks like a whirlwind coming,” he remarked.
Nestor stood up and peered forward.
“So it is, but not the kind you’re used to,” he said.