"I'm listening," she said quietly.
"You know I told you I'd been prospecting," Jack began. "Well, I made a rich strike on the little creek that comes down from Tetrahedron peak. I staked my claim there, and two claims adjoining mine for whoever I might want to go in with me on it. The names and dates aren't entered on the two stakes yet, and of course if these people find them they have a right to enter their own names. Baldwin Ferrie has doped it out that there's gold on that creek, and that's where they're off to now. You and Davy must get there first."
"But how can we?" she said. "They're starting."
"It will take them three hours to make the mouth of Seven-Mile Creek against the current," he said. "You can ride it in one. Davy is getting the horses. If you can get yourselves across the river before they come up, the claims are saved."
Mary went on with her quick, even stitches without a break. "Tell me exactly how to go," she said.
"Six miles west by the Fort Erskine trail, and then down to the river. You leave the trail where it turns to the north, under three big pines that stand by the themselves on the bench. Look sharp and you will find a trail that I blazed down to the river. At the end of it I left a little raft for crossing back and forth. If it has been washed down you'll have to knock another one together. Cross the river, and land at the lower side of Seven-Mile Creek. You'll find my landing-place there, and a good trail back to the little creek, and my old camp. The first square post is a hundred feet upstream from the campfire. You can't miss it. Keep on going until you come to the second post, and the third one."
"What must we do when we find the posts?" she asked.
"Read the notice on the first one, and that will show you. It reads: 'I, Malcolm Piers, hereby give notice of my intention to file a claim,' and so forth. And signed and dated at the bottom. The inscriptions are all written on the other two. All you have to do is to fill in your name on the second one, 'I, Mary Cranston,' and so on, and on the third post Davy writes, 'David Cranston, Junior.'"
Mary stopped sewing. "My name," she said, "and Davy's?"
"The second claim is yours in your own right," said Jack. Seeing her expression, he hastily added: "It was a deal that I made with your father before we started. As to the other, Davy can sign that back to me."