"Who?"
"Ike and two other men. We found 'em there when we came back."
"By ginger! Jumped it, did they?" ejaculated Sol. "Looks like we were just in time." He spurred on, Harry after.
"You boys don't go a step farther," ordered Mr. Richards. "You come along with us. Lucky you didn't give any bill of sale, or we might have serious trouble."
"But Harry told us we might sell," faltered Terry.
"Harry didn't know, either. Why, there are thousands of dollars in those claims, according to Sol. The Ike crowd know, all right. Where you're to blame is for having gone off on a wild-goose chase and left the claims and then been bamboozled by such nonsense as sacks full of iron pyrites. Gold dust is soft and dull; pyrites are hard and bright."
"What makes you think the Golden Prize is so rich, though?" stammered Terry, as he and George tried to keep up with the horses.
"The Golden Prize is liable to be a fortune, but we're banking on that other claim, the one you gave to Virgie. She happened to show Sol the piece of rock she brought down, and he says it's the best kind of gold quartz—fairly oozing."
"And not float, either. It's from a surface lode close at hand," put in Mr. Stanton.
"Aw, shucks!" sheepishly said Terry to George. "Guess we weren't so smart as we thought we were. Now Pine Knot Ike's there and maybe we can't get him off."