"Here is the man who helped us find Pete, father," said Will.
"I'm glad to meet you, sir," responded the farmer heartily, extending his hand. "Won't you come in?"
"I just invited him to dinner, dad," spoke Jed.
"That's right. Come in, Mr.—er——"
"Harrison, Gabriel Harrison, though my pardners and the boys used to call me Gabe. I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure, for your invitation."
"We don't often see strangers out this way," went on the farmer. "I understand you are a miner."
"I used to be, but I'm not much of anything now. I've been prospecting around here lately, looking for something to turn up, but it doesn't seem to be going to. Pretty dry around here, isn't it, Mr. Crosby?"
"Entirely too much so. I don't know what I'm going to do about my crops if we don't get rain soon."
Gabe Harrison looked up at the sky. The sun seemed to be blazing down as hot as ever. The old miner glanced to the various points of the compass. Then he leaned over and gravely felt of his left foot.
"What's the matter? Got a stone bruise?" asked Mr. Crosby.