"Guess so," grinned Terry. "You've been away, haven't you? Did Green Russell find you a mine? Do you know that man in the wagon? Has he made a big strike?"
"Never saw him before and don't know anything about him," answered the professor. "Yes, I've got a few prospects, but I'm holding them for more water. Just now I'm recorder for this district. They elected me only the other day. How are you doing? Where's Harry?"
"We're waiting for water, too. He's down at Denver, but he's coming back. Will you record our claims? Do we have to record them?"
"No, you don't have to. It might be safer, though. But I can't record them tonight. The books are locked up. What are they?"
"The Golden Prize and the True Blue. They're over there."
"I know. You look me up at the office first thing in the morning and we'll record them."
"We won't have time. We're going to follow that man in the wagon to the new strike," explained Terry. "Nobody'd said anything about recording until this evening. But we'll be back."
"Well, I'll make a memorandum, then," proposed the professor, "so you'll be safer. Nobody's liable to jump your claims while you're gone, if they can't be worked. The gulch is full of such claims. But you look me up as soon as you can."
"All right. Much obliged," replied Terry. "Maybe we won't want those claims after we've been to the new strike."
"We'd better be going. We've got to find Jenny and pack our stuff," urged George, impatient.