"Everything goes to Shep," he complained. "I can make 'em, all right, but I haven't the knack of turning 'em."
"You can shout there's a knack, Mister," agreed the other flap-jack performer, who now had stepped over to watch. "You'll not be a true miner till you can toss a flap-jack up the cabin chimbley an' ketch it again outside, turned over. Where you boys from?"
"Blue River Valley, Kansas. We were the Pike's Peak Limited; now we're the Extra Limited," explained Harry.
"The Russell brothers are somewhar in this hyar procession, aren't they?"
"Are they? All of them?"
"So I heard tell. They left Aurary today, for the new diggin's."
"Are the Gregory diggin's full of gold?" eagerly invited Terry.
"Mebbe so, for people who know how to find it. Trouble is, this country's fuller of people who don't know how to find it."
He went back to his own fire. Harry turned the rest of the flap-jacks with a knife, and they were very good. He really had become an excellent camp cook.
"Jiminy! Wish we could see Sol Judy at the diggin's," voiced Terry. "He knows all about gold. He was in California."