They looked about and soon came across the notice in question. It was made out in the name of a man neither Bob nor Elliott had ever heard of before.
"I suppose that's his ledge," remarked Elliott, kicking a little outcrop, "but it looks like mighty slim mining to me!"
They proceeded with their estimating. In due time they came upon another mining claim, and then a third.
"This is getting funny!" remarked Elliott. "Looks as though somebody expected to make a strike for fair. More timber than mineral here, I should say."
"That's it!" cried Bob, slapping his leg; "I'd just about forgotten! This must be what Baker was talking about one evening over at camp. He had some scheme for getting some timber and water rights somewhere under the mineral act. I didn't pay so very much attention to it at the time, and it had slipped my mind. But this must be it!"
"Do you mean to say that any man was going to take this beautiful timber away from us on that kind of a technicality?"
"I believe that's just what he did."
Two days later Elliott straightened his back after a squint through the compass sights to exclaim:
"I wish we had a dog!"
"Why?" laughed Bob. "Can't you eat your share?"