HKB
THE BIG REUBEN VEIN
But it seemed as though Joe were destined never to get to Sulphide. I was still in the kitchen, when, not more than twenty minutes later, I heard the rattle of wheels again, and looking out of the window, there I saw my partner by the stable tying up his horse.
"Hallo, Joe!" I cried, throwing open the door. "What's up?"
Without replying at the moment, Joe came striding in, shut the door, and throwing his hat down upon the table, said:
"I came back to tell you something. I've a notion, Phil, that we've got to go hunting for that vein ourselves, and not lose time by going up to tell Tom."
"Why? What makes you think that, Joe?" I asked, in surprise.
"That's what I came back to tell you. You know that little treeless 'bubble' that stands on the edge of the canyon only about half a mile up-stream from here? Well, when I drove up the hill out of our valley just now I turned, naturally, to look at the scar on the mountain, when the first thing to catch my eye was the figure of a man standing on top of the 'bubble.'"
"Is that so? What was he doing?"
"He was looking at the scar, too."
"How do you know that, Joe?" I asked, incredulously. "You couldn't tell at that distance whether he had his back to you or his face."
"Ah, but I could, though," Joe replied; "and I'll tell you how. After a minute or so the man turned--I could see that motion distinctly enough--caught sight of me, and instantly jumped down behind the rocks."
"Didn't want to be seen, eh?" remarked Peter. "And what did you do next?"
"I felt sure he was watching me, though I couldn't see him," Joe went on, "and so, to make him suppose I hadn't observed him, I stayed where I was for a minute, and then drove leisurely on again. There's a dip in the road, you know, Phil, a little further on, and as soon as I had driven down into it, out of sight, I pulled up, jumped out of the buckboard, and running up the hill again I crawled to the top of the rise and looked back. There was the man, going across the mesa at a run, headed straight for Big Reuben's gorge!"
Joe paused, and for a moment we all sat looking at each other in silence.
"Any idea who he was?" I asked presently.
"Yes," replied Joe, without hesitation. "It was Long John Butterfield."
"You seem very sure," remarked Peter; "but do you think you could recognize him so far off?"
"I feel sure it was Long John," Joe answered. "I have very long sight; and as the man stood there on top of the 'bubble,' with the sun shining full upon him, he looked as tall as a telegraph pole. Yes, I feel certain it was Long John."
"Then Yetmore has started him out to prospect for that vein!" I cried. "He is probably camped in the neighborhood of Big Reuben's gorge, following up the stream, and I suppose he heard the roar of the slide yesterday and came down this way the first thing this morning to get a look at the scar."
"That's it, I expect," Joe answered.
"And you suppose," said Peter, "that he went running back to his camp to get his tools and go prospecting up on the scar."
Joe nodded.
"Then, what do you propose to do?" asked the hermit.
"I've been thinking about it as I drove back," replied Joe, "and my opinion is that Phil and I ought to go up at once, see if we can't find the spot where that big tree was rooted out, and stake the claim for Tom Connor. If we lose a whole day by going up to Sulphide to notify Tom, it would give Long John a chance to get in ahead of us and perhaps beat us after all."