“It’s silver! I tell you it’s silver! Jimmie? Who says Jimmie? Why, that’s my boy. But he’s dead, is Jimmie. Dead-dead-dead!”
The cracked voice broke off in a wail. Suddenly the delirious man thrust his hands into his pockets and drew out some fragments of rock.
“Scramble for it, you dogs!” he cried. “It’s silver! Jimmie’s dead and I don’t want it. But they’re after me,—after me yet!”
The professor picked up a bit of the rock.
“It’s rich in fine silver!” he exclaimed. “This man has found a mine somewhere.”
“Yes; but Jimmie called him ‘father.’ What does it all mean?” demanded Ralph.
“It must remain a puzzle for the present,” said the professor. “This man has been badly injured in his fall. I think he will live, but I can’t answer for it. Bill Dawkins’ partner has ridden off for a doctor. In the meantime. I’ll do what I can.”
Soon afterward the doctor arrived and they were all ordered from the room. It was then that Jimmie told his story to the curious group that surrounded him.