"Yes, of pneumonia, on the very day the slide took place. Wasn't it queer? Dad and mother went out to Butte, to the funeral—Uncle Maurice was an old bachelor—and then they heard his will read and learned about the mine."
"And they couldn't get any trace at all, Roger?" asked Dave, as he stopped swinging in the hammock he occupied.
"Nothing worth following up. One of the miners thought he had a landmark located, but, although he spent a good deal of money digging around, nothing came of it. You see that big landslide seemed to change the whole face of the country. It took down dirt and rocks, and trees and bushes, and sent them to new resting places."
"Perhaps the mine was washed away instead of being covered up," suggested Phil.
"No, all those who have visited the locality are agreed that the entrance to the claim must have been covered up."
"Say! I'd like to hunt for that mine!" cried Dave Porter, enthusiastically.
"So would I," returned Roger Morr, wistfully. "I know my mother would like to have somebody find it—just to learn if it is really as valuable as Uncle Maurice thought."
"Well, if you two fellows go West to look for that mine you can count on having me with you,"
