The driest of the wood was selected, and they built a new fire with care, in the shelter of the largest of the overhanging rocks. Soon the appetizing odor of freshly made coffee filled the air and all drew close, to have a cup, and to partake of some fried bacon and some of Abe Blower's famous flapjacks.
"Them flapjacks made Abe a good friend," observed Tom Dillon, while eating. "They was the means o' introducing Maurice Harrison to him. Ain't that so, Abe?" And the old miner grinned broadly.
"Right you are!" was the ready reply. "We was in the mountains together, and Maurice didn't have nuthin' to eat. I made him some o' my flapjacks an' then we became pardners fer nigh on to a year. Thet was up at tudder end o' the State," explained Abe Blower.
By the time breakfast was over and the horses had been cared for, the rain had stopped and the sun was breaking through the eastern sky. All in the camp lost no time in changing their wet garments for dry. The soaked clothing was then hung up around the fire and on the rocks in the sun.
"You want to be careful how you climb around this mornin'," warned Tom Dillon. "Some o' the places is mighty slippery. You don't want to slide over no rocks into a hollow an' git killed!"
"No, indeed!" replied Roger, earnestly.
It was not until the middle of the afternoon that they took up the hunt for the lost mine once more. This time the three boys went off together, Abe Blower advising them not to separate while the rocky slopes were so wet.
"You keep together an' me an' Tom will do the same thing," he said. "Then, if anything happens to anybody, the others can help."
For over two hours the boys hunted around, making their way along a ledge of rocks below the point where they had hunted before.
"From the description left by Uncle Maurice, that mine was pretty deep," said Roger. "And if it was, maybe we'll be more apt to find an opening to it from below rather than from above."