“Reckon ye wouldn’t bother to locate a gold mine ’r a silver mine if ye was to find one, would ye?” he said in gentle raillery.
“Oh, yes, we would,” said Dick, laughing.
“Well, if ye do, don’t go and do like pore old Jim Brock did—get yourselves holed in for the winter a-workin’ it and starve t’ death.”
At this mention of Brock, the discoverer—and loser—of the Golden Spider, Dick pricked up his ears.
“Did you know James Brock?” he asked.
“Shore I did. Him and me was pardners for a couple o’ summers.”
“Then you know about the Golden Spider?”
“I know that’s what Jim called his gold strike that he made over in the Little Hophras,” was the reply which seemed to be made guardedly.
“It’s a lost mine,” said Dick. “Nobody’s ever been able to find it. Did you know that?”