Anvik came in with the tools, surveying chains, and pans, and Darwood and the others staked off their claims, taking in enough to give each boy a claim, putting up heaps of stones to mark the boundaries.
“Of course, if anyone else were to file a prior claim we’d have a hard time to substantiate ours. But there’s not much danger.”
The claim staked, Darwood proposed that they pan in the bar to see what they could find. To the delight of all, sparkling particles of rich yellow dust lay in the bottoms of the sieves, and they felt convinced that there was gold in paying quantities.
Once more back in the camp, the Professor disappeared into his tent. When he emerged he looked excited.
“Boys!” he shouted. “Tad! Your sample 208is platinum! Gentlemen, you have indeed a fortune! The platinum is worth about double its weight in gold!”
Such a hurrah as went up! Such an evening of rejoicing and excitement! But early the next morning came the reaction.
Tad, up early, went out to the claim, too impatient to await breakfast. To his amazement instead of finding the markers they had set, he found that they had been removed, and in their places some one had cut off saplings and marked the stumps of them with deep-cut notches.
“It’s that rascal, Sandy Ketcham,” declared Darwood in a strained voice, when Tad reported his discovery. “He’s been on our trail for nearly three years, and now he’s got us! He’s on his way to Skagway now to register the claim in the land office,” the man groaned.
“We’ll get ahead of them, then,” cried Tad. “He hasn’t much of a start. When does a steamer leave Yakutat?”
“This is the twenty-third. The ‘Corsair’ will leave Yakutat on the twenty-seventh. He will just about make it.”