Here Bennie again grew so melancholy that Loney crept to his side and slipped his bony little hand into that of the man, who closed his own over it, and somehow felt comforted for the unspoken sympathy.
“But, Bennie, if we have to stop to dig for gold, how can we be looking for Dora, too?”
“You don’t seem to understand, Loney. We have no more money, any of us. We cannot continue our search without money. Mr. Goldberg hopes that he will find gold in the claim and in that way have money enough to search for Dora. It needs money to telegraph to every town on the map of Wyoming, to see if such a party has reached there, and where they went, and to follow them if they have gone, and to bring them to justice if they are caught. Oh, I hope he will find gold there, and then have enough to travel the wide world over, if need be, to find Dora!”
“Does it cost money to go on a train? And do we have to pay when we eat in a hotel?”
“You bet!” said Bennie, wishing that he was at any kind of a hotel where he could get a good meal.
“Then what am I going to do? I had dinner and breakfast at the hotel, and did not know it had to be paid for. Mr. Goldberg gives every one a dinner, and just ask him if ever he is paid for it. He gives it, but I don’t know what to do.”
“How did you happen to go into the dining-room alone?”
“I didn’t. Shoshone—I mean Mr. Shoshone—took me in both times.”
“Oh, then, you are all right, and he is responsible for both meals, and I guess he is responsible, all right. He seems to be a man of some consequence out here, and I think he is a good fellow. He seems to like you, too.”
Just then the two, who were sitting down to rest, saw the bent form of Morris Goldberg coming around the bend in the trail, and Bennie sprang forward to help him, forgetting that he had carried the heaviest pack all along. Morris was heard complaining: