To digress, for a moment, as we may not linger much longer over the happy ending of Jimmie’s search. Time and the trooper proved, that Mr. Ransom and “Nevins of Ours” were, indeed, one and the same. The second name had been assumed as a protection, and so had prevented the finding of Jimmie’s father long ago. A year or two after the incidents just related there was a reunion of the two men who had long before faced death together on the solitary trail, and by that time the clouds of forgetfulness had been so largely dissipated from Mr. Ransom’s befogged brain that he was able to thank the stalwart trooper for his efforts in his behalf.
Although much that had intervened between the time of Mr. Ransom’s disappearance in the snow and the time of his mental recovery was never clearly known, yet flashes of memory recalled to him Indians, warm blankets and good food. And his friends concluded that the Indians had really captured and saved him, but through some superstitious regard for his crazed condition, had been kindly disposed toward him and given him his freedom.
But the silver? It was many days before Horace Ransom was strong enough to compel his brain to work backward to locate the spot where he had found the rich ore. Finally he succeeded, and the professor and the boys eventually accompanied him to the recess in the hills where the rich find had been made. The professor declared that the vein was of great richness and would yield a vast amount of silver, and so it subsequently proved.
The new Horace Ransom—the alert, middle-aged man of property that had arisen from the ashes of the mysterious derelict of the mountains—was anxious for the boys and the professor all to take shares in his mine, but they refused. Instead they turned their interest, which Mr. Ransom insisted they possessed, over to Mountain Jim.
All this, of course, did not take place in a day. While Mr. Ransom was convalescing, the boys had much sport on the great Columbia in native canoes. They also had several adventurous hunting trips and memorable mountain climbs. But possibly of all their recollections of the Canadian Rockies the remembrance of the strange reunion of “the boy from nowhere” and his father was destined to stand out as the brightest and best. Little did they imagine when Ralph rescued Jimmie from the hands of the brutal brakeman, that before many years had rolled by the waif would be partner in the “Border Boy” silver mine, answering to the name “Mr. James Ransom.”
And here we will break off this tale. Another volume might easily be written relating further doings of these boys in the Canadian Rockies. But space forbids, and we must defer further acquaintance with our lads till we meet them once more in the next volume of this series, The Border Boys on the St. Lawrence.
THE END.
