But still he could not account for years of his past. Jimmie patiently went over with him the story of his long-ago flight and of his recent mining researches, but between the two experiences yawned a baffling hiatus.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE MYSTERY SOLVED.
One day the two were sitting in the doorway of Bill Dawkins’ hut, where the hospitable owner still made them welcome. They were looking over the few specimens of rock “rich in fine silver” that Mr. Ransom had produced that first day, when the man thrust his hands into his pockets to see if any more fragments remained there. Finally from an inside pocket he added to the growing pile of treasures a piece of flat, tarnished metal. He gave a little shudder as his fingers released it, and Jimmie glanced up in time to see a sudden change in his father’s eye, like a glimpse of suddenly remembered fear.
“What is it, father?” Jimmie cried sharply.
The man started, looked down and then smiled foolishly.
“I don’t know, son,” he replied slowly.