"First, we must make our cabin stunt an Association enterprise, so we can have their help and backing. Let's make it a high school boys' enterprise. Next, we must find an ideal place, where the work will have all the natural advantages possible—not too far away, not too close, near good water and a good supply of dead wood. It would be best to get somewhere on the old Cripple Creek Stage Road. Mr. Allen has suggested that we might help finance it in two ways: Organize a cabin company and sell stock at so much a share, all stockholders being privileged to use the shack, or we might give a circus in the gymnasium and use the money thus earned. He thinks the latter the better plan. The greatest trouble seems to be to find the ideal place. Mr. Dean, what do you think of the whole plan?"
"It's a capital idea, fellows; only it means real business. If you tackle a job like that, you want to finish it. I'd sure be in with you on any such a deal. Here's a suggestion. Why don't six or seven of you fellows take a week just before school opens, pack your grub and blankets, take a gun or two and a good camera, and make a trip on foot, looking over the possible locations? For instance—start up the old Stage Road, go as far as Daddy Wright's, then to the top of Cheyenne Mountain through that valley. There is a beautiful park there that might be suitable; then down Rock Creek, up around Black Mountain, back around St. Peter's Dome, then study the canyons along the railroad. They say there is a good cabin somewhere near Daniel's Pass, and several around Fairview. Get into all of those canyons that run into North Cheyenne, because that would be the handiest location for us to get to. It would be great if we could find an old prospector's cabin that we could remodel and add to. You see, we'd have a place to camp as we worked that way. Then, too, it would have this decided advantage—it would be a staked claim and not the open forest reserve. You would have to pay for all lumber you cut on the reserve, but on a claim you are entitled to a certain amount for building purposes. You see, we could probably show mineral anywhere near a prospector's cabin. I am convinced there are many such cabins that would be almost ideal, if we could only find them."
"My father built a cabin in these mountains years ago," said Willis. "A miner's cabin; but I've never seen it. I don't know where it is, but it's near Cookstove Mountain. Some one has jumped the claim, though, now, so mother said."
"Wouldn't it be funny, Willis, if we should find that old cabin of your father's?" asked Mr. Allen. Ideas came thick and fast. Even "Sleepy" Smith woke up to the fact that something unusual was going on, and roused himself so as not to miss it. After an hour's planning and discussion they decided what to do. A route was to be laid out and an investigation trip made under the direction of Mr. Allen. The party was to be limited to six fellows: Ham, Phil, Fat, Chuck, and Willis were the ones chosen to go. Definite plans were laid out, and the following Tuesday set as the day for starting.
As Willis was explaining the plans to his mother the next morning his Uncle Joe came into the room. He had seen an article in the morning paper to the effect that the Y.M.C.A. boys were to build a cabin, including the names and the probable route to be taken by the investigating party.
"What's all this nonsense about a cabin in the mountains, Willis? I saw an article in the Gazette this morning concerning it. Now listen to me, boy. I don't want any relation of mine getting mixed up in any such a crazy, wild-goose chase. Do you hear? About the first thing you kids will do is to trespass on some one's mining claims, and then you'll be getting yourselves and some of the rest of us into trouble. It's a lot of foolish nonsense, such doings, anyway. Isn't home good enough for you?"
"Well, it seems to me you're kind of mad about nothing, Uncle. We're not going to carry off any one's gold mines," replied Willis. "Have you a few you are afraid we will steal?"
Mr. Williams flew into a fit of anger, saying something about, "If he was mine, I'll bet I'd see if he'd insult his superiors in that way. The next thing we know you will be off on a mountain picnic on Sunday, bringing disgrace on your respectable relatives," snapped Mr. Williams. "There are enough enemies now to a man's good name, without adding any more by foolish kids like you, with heads full of nonsense."
Mr. Williams stalked angrily out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
"Of all the strange men on earth, I think he is the strangest of them all," remarked Mrs. Thornton. "Something has upset him, and he has an ugly streak to-day. I heard him at the telephone, storming about some old prospector that has come back to the city to make life miserable for him. He had seen him on the street, talking with a man he said was a detective. Lucy told me just the other day that Uncle Joe took awful chances on mining stock very often, and that she believed he would sell his very soul for a gold mine. It seems so strange—he has been angry at me every time I have let you go into the mountains. He works hard, and I suppose he thinks you ought to be doing something, too, and if we stay here through the winter, my boy, I think it would be well for you to look about for something to do after school."