"Boys, boys, give me a chance," laughed Mr. Lovell. "Order, order! Now, Bob, what is your idea?"
"That the men have staked out the wrong place."
Wanatoma, with an approving glance, nodded.
"The white boy is keen, like Indian brave," he said, slowly.
"Then—then do you really mean to say Bob is right?" stammered Tim, with a great flash of hope. "Quick, Uncle Stanley, tell us."
"We have already staked out the Rambler Club's Gold Mine!"
A silence far more impressive than the wildest demonstration could have been followed this amazing announcement. The boys stared at one another, then at the lumberman, and from him to Wanatoma.
"I felt sure of it," said Bob, at length, with a great sigh of relief.
"Just to think of the luck," mumbled Tim.
"Honest, it seems too good to be true," chirped Tom, breathlessly.