The departure was made from Butte about noon of the next day. It was clear and warm, with a gentle breeze blowing from the west.
"We might have taken a train for the first forty miles," remarked Tom Dillon. "But it wouldn't have helped us a great deal, for we'd have to side-track for ten miles. We'll go the old way—the way we went afore there was any railroads."
"There must be a lot of mines in Montana," remarked Phil, as they rode out of Butte.
"Somebody told me there had been over fifteen thousand minin' claims staked and recorded," answered the old miner. "O' course, lots of 'em ain't never been developed. But a good many of 'em have."
"They must produce a lot of gold," said Dave.
"Yes, lad, the output runs up into the millions every year. Oh, a good mine is a bonanza!" added Tom Dillon, emphatically.
"Then I trust we locate the Landslide Mine, and that it proves a bonanza," returned Roger, eagerly.
On the way they passed mine after mine, and the boys were much interested in watching the process of getting out ore, and also in the work of the huge quartz-crushers. Whenever they passed a mine there would be sure to be somebody to wave a friendly hand to Tom Dillon.
