XVII. OUR MINE.
![[Original Size]](#5894734084459561587_9341.jpg.id-452474370046338927.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
It now behooves me to state that, between the events of the last chapter and this, Nimrod and I heard the hum, the wail, and the shriek that make the song of the Westinghouse brake before we found ourselves deposited at the flourishing mining camp of Red Ridge in the Arizona Rockies, nine thousand feet in the air.
![[Original Size]](#5894734084459561587_8341.jpg.id-7182326789174486201.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}
Did ever a tenderfoot escape from the mountains without at least having a try at making his or her fortune in a mine—gold one preferred? We, of course, had the chance of our lives, and who knows what might have happened if only the fat woman and the lean woman had not gotten jealous of each other, and thereby wrecked the company?
![[Original Size]](#5894734084459561587_9342.jpg.id-4177428359708125845.wrap-0.html.html){kind=link}