“None of us are like that,” said Juarez. “Perhaps it is because we have seen plenty of real life on the frontier and have had plenty of excitement and adventure without resorting to foolishness.”
“Something in that, Ezac,” nodded Berwick.
This will serve as an introduction to this interesting man, before we listen, with the Frontier Boys, to the story that he has to tell. I may add here that John Berwick had dark hair, thinning in front and brushed straight with the forehead, dark hazel eyes, generally pleasant in expression, but capable of becoming harsh and hard with anger. He wore a rather slight dark moustache above a mouth thin-lipped and wide. The chin was square, and the whole complexion of the face rather dark.
The boys had never gathered before in the engine-room in a body, and as Jeems Howell’s tall figure loomed in the doorway the gathering was complete. It was because the boys had never imposed on him that the engineer was inclined to be gracious, on this occasion. Then, too, there was something about the warm interior of the engine-room, contrasted with the storm outside, that lent itself to good comradeship and anecdote.
“I suppose that you boys have never traveled a great deal, except in the West, have you?” questioned John Berwick.
“That’s right, Mr. Berwick,” said Jim; “we expect to visit a few other countries, though, before long, if we find this ‘Lost Mine’ we are looking for. You know you can’t travel without money.”
“Not in your own yacht,” replied Berwick.
“I generally walked, or,” seeing a gleam of humor in Jim’s eye, “or worked my passage.”
“We will stick to our yacht,” remarked Jim, “seeing that we have it on our hands.”