When nobody else had thought of any way to rescue the entombed miners from the Silent Sue, Chet and Dig had remembered about the old Crayton shaft and the possibility of getting into the closed mine through its old tunnel.
“It showed a surprising amount of thought and initiative for boys of their age,” Mr. Havens said. “I don’t know whether it was my boy or yours who took the lead, Fordham. At any rate, the two in conjunction hunted us out.”
“Something is due the boys,” admitted Mr. Fordham, “and the trip will be a great lark for them.”
“It’s more than a lark. I shall impress that on Chet’s mind,” said his partner, shaking his head.
“Oh! your boy’s got a head on him,” agreed Mr. Fordham.
“I hope so,” concluded Mr. Havens, and it was then the chums were recalled to receive permission and instructions for the journey over the trail to Grub Stake.
Neither Chet nor Digby gave vent to any exuberance of joy at the prospect—not then, at least. They listened earnestly to what they were told, and then at once set about the preparations they had to make, for they were to start the very next morning.
Dig, who never went anywhere on foot if he could help it, brought his black horse, Poke, and all his outfit over to the Havens corral that evening. The boys proposed to camp in the open, there being no ranches at that date along the Grub Stake trail. So they were obliged to pack a good deal of camp equipment.
“We’d better hire one of Mexican Joe’s burros,” said Dig, “and then we can take our piano and your mother’s sewing machine and washtubs.”
“Don’t begin to kick,” Chet said calmly. “You’ll be glad to have all this stuff before we’re half-way to Grub Stake.”