"I see. A pretty miserable condition for the poor people, isn't it? And doesn't this man, Galvez, with his superior intelligence—presumably—know anything of the King Philip mine?"
"Apparently not."
"My word, Dick!" I exclaimed. "What fun it would be to go and hunt for it ourselves, wouldn't it?"
"Wouldn't it! I've often thought of it before, but I know the professor would never consent. He would consider it a waste of time. It's an idea worth keeping in mind, though, at any rate. There's never any telling what may turn up. We might get the chance somehow; though I confess I don't see how. But we must be moving, Frank," said he, suddenly changing the subject. "It's getting latish. Hallo!"
"What's the matter?" I asked, looking wonderingly at my companion, who, with his hand held up to protect his eyes from the glare, was standing, staring at the sun.
"Why, the matter is, Frank, that the professor will say that I've neglected my duty, I'm afraid. You remember he told me to look out for a change of weather? I'd forgotten all about it."
"Well," said I, "I don't see that that matters. There's no sign of a change, is there?"
"Yes, there is. Look up there. Do you see a number of tiny specks all hurrying across the face of the sun from north to south?"
"Yes. What is it?"
"Snow."