"If we're going to be engineers out West, though, Harry, we simply must know a good deal about assaying precious metals," Tom had declared.
So, though the chums were "taking a rest," as they phrased it, they had brought with them a small furnace and the rest of the outfit for assaying minerals in small quantities.
Today, however, was altogether too fine for thoughts of work. Just after breakfast Harry Hazelton had borrowed the only horse in camp, belonging to Jim Ferrers, their cook and guide, and had ridden away for the day.
Barely had Hazelton departed when Alf Drew, hungry, lonely and wistful, had happened along. He asked for "a job." There really wasn't one for him, but good-natured Reade created one, offering five dollars a month and board.
"No telling, young man, how long the job will last," Tom warned him.
"We may at any hour break camp and get away."
But Alf had taken the job and gratefully. Not until after the noon meal had the little fellow revealed his unfortunate vice for cigarette smoking.
"You've simply got to give up that habit, Alf" Tom urged, as they walked along.
"You can't make me," retorted young Drew. "You've no right to."
"No, I haven't," Tom admitted soberly. "If I had any real rights over you I'm afraid I'd turn you over my knee and spank you, three times a day, until you gave up the beastly habit."
"You're not going to bounce me, are you?" asked Alf.