War leaned forward on the bed. “A secret about gold?”
Old Stony hitched his rocker nearer the fire. Without looking at the Explorers, he began:
“Back in the early 1900’s my podner and I made our lucky strike.”
“Here in New Mexico?” asked Jack.
“No, in Colorado. My podner and I were lured West by the Shining Mountains—the Rockies, folks call ’em.”
“But weren’t the big Colorado gold strikes earlier than 1900?” Ken interposed thoughtfully. “I’ve read about Leadville and Cripple Creek in 1891—”
The interruption annoyed Old Stony. “This place I’m telling you about you’ve never read of,” he said, “and you never will because it’s a place hard to reach even today. My podner and I gave it the name of Headless Hollow.
“There’s a way in if you know the trail and can stand hardships. There’s no way out except the way in. It’s in an out-of-the way valley, rimmed by canyons, hard by a little lake no bigger’n a tin cup. To get there you back-pack over miles o’ rock so steep it makes me dizzy to think of ’em.”
“But you found gold?” prompted War.
“Ay, we found it, and a heap o’ trouble. Here, let me show you something.”