"Then we will find out about it when we show him the way to the Flat," said Jake.
"Oh, there will be somebody there working the mine—I don't dispute that. But he is no uncle to them two boys. But say—I have just thought of something. We are not going up there for three dollars a day; and if we don't make something out of the boys, what's the reason we can't go to headquarters?"
Jake understood all his companion would have said, for he winked and nodded his head in a way that had a volume of meaning in it. The two moved their chairs closer together, and for half an hour engaged in earnest conversation. There was only one thing that troubled them—they did not like the idea of staying at Dutch Flat, among the miners, until they heard how the boys were getting on with their mine.
"You know they did not like us any too well last summer," said Bob, twisting about in his chair. "If we had not come away just when we did, it is my belief they would have ordered us out."
"Yes; and it was all on your account, too. You were too anxious to know how much the other fellows had dug out of their mines. You must keep still and say nothing."
Claus went away from the hotel feeling very much relieved. Bob and Jake had come over to his plans, and they had raised no objection to them. The next thing was to bring them down to a share in the spoils. He was not going to come out there all the way from St. Louis and propose that thing to them, and then put up with what they chose to give him.
"I must have a third of the money they make, and that is all there is about it," said he to himself. "They would not have known a thing about it if it had not been for me. Who is that? I declare, it is Julian and Jack!"
The boys were coming directly toward him, and this was the first time he had seen them since his arrival in Denver, although he had kept a close watch of everybody he had met on the street. He stepped into a door, and appeared to be looking for some one inside; and when the boys passed him, he turned around to look at them. The latter were in a hurry, for it was a frosty morning, and they felt the need of some exercise to quicken their blood; besides, they were on their way to school, in the hope of learning something that would fit them for some useful station in life. They were dressed in brand-new overcoats, had furs around their necks and fur gloves on their hands, and Julian was bent partly over, laughing at some remark Jack had made. He watched them until they were out of sight, and then came out and went on his way.
"I tell you we are 'some,' now that we have our pockets full of money," soliloquized Claus, who grew angry when he drew a contrast between his and their station in life. "Most anybody would feel big if he was in their place. But I must look out—I don't want them to see me here."
Fortunately Claus was not again called upon to dodge the boys in his rambles about the city. He kept himself in a part of the city remote from that which the boys frequented. The winter passed on, and spring opened, and he did not again see them; but he heard of them through Bob and Jake, who made frequent visits to the hotel where Mr. Banta was located.