Joe paused, and for a moment we all sat looking at each other in silence.
“Any idea who he was?”I asked presently.
“Yes,”replied Joe, without hesitation. “It was Long John Butterfield.”
“You seem very sure,”remarked Peter; “but do you think you could recognize him so far off?”
“I feel sure it was Long John,”Joe answered. “I have very long sight; and as the man stood there on top of the ‘bubble,’ with the sun shining full upon him, he looked as tall as a telegraph pole. Yes, I feel certain it was Long John.”
“Then Yetmore has started him out to prospect for that vein!”I cried. “He is probably camped in the neighborhood of Big Reuben’s gorge, following up the stream, and I suppose he heard the roar of the slide yesterday and came down this way the first thing this morning to get a look at the scar.”
“That’s it, I expect,”Joe answered.
“And you suppose,”said Peter, “that he went running back to his camp to get his tools and go prospecting up on the scar.”
Joe nodded.
“Then, what do you propose to do?”asked the hermit.