Rick started drawing with pencil and paper.
It was two or three days after the disappointing exploration of the tunnel, during which time the boys, their sore spots healed, romped with Ruddy about the surrounding country, meeting miners and other characters who told strange tales of Lost River. Some of the more ignorant held that the stream, and the tunnel through which it formerly flowed, were enchanted, or under the spell of some evil spirit. But of course Rick and Chot laughed at this.
The two boys and their dog (for Chot claimed a loving interest in Ruddy) paid several more visits to the second opening of the tunnel—the place where Uncle Tod had been so disappointed—and it was after one of these visits, sitting by themselves in the mine cabin as they were (for Uncle Tod and Sam had gone out) it was at this time that Rick started drawing something with pencil and paper.
“What you doing?” asked Chot. “Going to write a story of Lost River?”
“Not much, though after we find it maybe I will,” Rick answered with a laugh.
“What do you mean—do you think you’re going to find it?”
“I might,” was the cool answer. “Look here, Chot, what do you think of that?” and Rick passed to his chum a sketch, or drawing, on which certain words were written. Chot studied for a few moments, and then his eyes brightened as he cried:
“Golly! Maybe that’s the way it really happened, Rick!”
“It’s worth trying, anyhow; don’t you think?”