They talked the matter over whenever they got the chance that day, but reached no conclusion of value. Then Mark cooled down a little, and resolved to let the matter rest for a while.
"But I'll tell you what I am going to do," he said, suddenly. "I am going to write to my step-father and let him know where I am and how I am getting along, and I'll tell him all I know about this Morgan Fitzsimmons. Then if he wants to do anything, let him go ahead, and I'll help him all I can."
"Maybe he will get after you for running away," said Maybe Dixon.
"I am not afraid of him any more," answered Mark. "I think he will let me alone when he learns how well I am doing—especially if I promise not to bother him about a settlement of my heritage."
The whole party was doing very well at White Rock Gulch. On the day that Mark went away Bob found several fair-sized nuggets, and when Mark went to work he came across a pocket containing several nuggets as big as peas. Then Si and Maybe Dixon capped the good fortune by finding twin nuggets, one fitting into the other, and both together worth not less than four hundred dollars.
"Talk about getting rich!" cried the former farm boy. "Say, this beats hoeing corn all to pieces," and he danced a jig for joy.
"If only our good fortune keeps up," said Bob, with his face on a broad grin.
"Well, it seems to be keeping up," said Mark. "At this rate we'll have quite a pile laid by when winter comes."
"Don't mention winter yet!" exclaimed Si. "I don't want to think of giving up digging gold. It's too much fun!"