“What?  Ye don’t mean the young feller ye was a tellin’ me about the other evenin’?  Bill’s boy really come to the mountains?” asked Dad, becoming interested at once.

“Yes, he’s here, Dad, as sure as I’m a living man.  He went up this trail this afternoon, and I talked with him.  He asked about his father the first thing; said his father owned a mine up here somewhere, and asked me if I knew Tad Kieser.”

“Shoot me fer a pole-cat.  Well, I’ll be dum-swizzled, course ye told him Yep, ye knowed him a little, didn’t ye?”

“No, Dad, I didn’t, and that’s just what I’ve come down to talk to you about this evening.  You see, it’s like this:  If I had told him who I was, that would have been the end of it, but if he doesn’t really find out who I am for a while yet, perhaps I can locate a paying gold mine for him.  I always have felt that I owed him at least that much.”

“So ye didn’t tell him?” pondered Dad.  “Well, Tad, yer head is a sight longer’n mine is, an’ I s’pose ye know what’s best; but, my boy, let me give ye a little advice:  If ye wait till ye find a real gold mine in these here parts, the boy’s likely as not to die o’ old age ’fore ye find it.”

“Perhaps so, Dad.  Perhaps you’re right; but then, if I don’t ever find it, I won’t tell him who I am, because he’d be disappointed.  He thinks his father owned a real mine in these mountains somewhere, and he’s looking for it.  Do you know, I’ve been wondering—­no, it can’t be, though; I suppose I’m foolish, but someway, I’ve always felt that I ought to have been man enough to have worked the old tunnel just a little farther.  Bill was so certain that things looked better, and—­”

“Tad, hain’t ye ever been in the old hole sence that day, honest Injun?  I used t’ think that’s where ye went when ye’d go off fer a week er ten days in the hills all by yerself.”

“No, Dad, I give you my word, I’ve never been in that hole since the day I carried poor Bill’s broken body out.  I’ve never been near since I put that great, heavy lock on the door, and then I dropped the only key into the old shaft.  I thought that perhaps some time the temptation to go back in might be too strong, and I’d do it.”

Both smoked silently for a long time, then Dad spoke: 

“S’posin’ somebody would jump ye over yonder, Tad.  What’s to hinder ’em a breakin’ in an’ startin’ operations?  I’ve heerd tell that old Williams claimed that property, but course it’s a dern lie—­”

“He couldn’t jump it, Dad, because I hold the deed to it.  We proved up on that, you know, the summer before; but I believe Williams does hold a placer claim on the property.  You know placers can run into regular lode claims.  He could claim the tunnel, all right, too, I suppose, if the owner couldn’t be found.  Especially since he seems to be the only relative Bill had, except his wife.”