“I am sick unto death. The exertion of carrying that load of ore from the mine was too much for me. I do not think I have long to live.”
“Who are you?” asked Bart Witherbee gently.
“I am Jared Fogg,” replied the old man, closing his eyes as though too weary to keep them open.
“Jared Fogg!” exclaimed the others in amazed tones.
“Yes; why do you seem so surprised?”
“Why, I am the man who found your lost mine,” exclaimed the miner.
“What! The man who staked out his claim there!” cried the old man.
“Yes; I thought you were dead. We all did, and I started out to find your mysterious mine. As you never filed a claim to it, I thought I had a right to stake it.”
“You are right; I never filed a claim to it. I did not want other miners to come to the neighborhood as soon as they found how rich it was. So I worked it all alone. As I got the good gold out I hid it all away.”
“Yes; go on,” said Bart Witherbee breathlessly.