"It ain't very big. In the old days it was a real rough-and-ready minin' camp, with dance-halls and saloons. Then, as the mines got worked out and the miners went on up into the copper fields, the town sort of dwindled away. It's a sort of ghost camp nowadays, I guess. Nobody there but a couple of store-keepers and a few miners who keep pluggin' away still hopin' to find some gold that somebody else has missed."
Jadbury Wilson rubbed his eyes and smothered a yawn.
"You'll have to pardon me, ma'am," he said to Mrs. Hardy, "but I've always been used to goin' to bed at dark and it ain't often I sit up so late jawin'. If you don't mind, I think I'll turn in."
"'Early to bed and early to rise—,'" quoted Aunt Gertrude, with approval.
"'Makes a man healthy and wealthy and wise,'" finished Jadbury Wilson, with a wry smile. "Well, I been gettin' up early and goin' to bed early all my life and it's never made me wealthy and I'm mighty sure I ain't very wise. About all it's done is to make me healthy. You couldn't kill me if you belted me over the head with a church."
He bade them good-night and went upstairs to bed. Aunt Gertrude remarked that the Hardy boys would be well-advised to follow the old man's example in the matter of early retirement, but they sat up for almost an hour before the fire, talking over some of the yarns the old miner had recounted.
"He sure had some great experiences," said Frank, before they went to sleep that night.
"You bet he did. I wish we could get out there for a while."
"It probably wouldn't be the same now. He said the country has got pretty tame."
"It can't be so tame when they have to call dad out there in their gold-stealing cases. There must be some excitement left."