The Young Treasure Hunter | Page 5

get to the new diggings,"
went on the old man. "I know every miner in these parts worth knowing.
G'lang there, Kangaroo."
"I thought you said the donkey's name was Jack Rabbit."

"No, that's not his name. You see I call him something different every
time."
"Why?" inquired Fred.
"Well, I think one name gets sort of tiresome for an animal. And then I
think, if I call him a different name every time, he'll think maybe I'm
somebody else, and he'll go faster. He knows me so well he won't pay
any attention to me, and he knows I won't hit him. But if I call him a
different name, he may think there's a different man on his back, and he
may run a bit."
"He doesn't seem to be going to."
"No, I guess not. G'lang there, Hippopotamus!"
That name seemed to have no effect, either, and, with an exclamation
of disgust, the old miner settled back in the saddle and let the donkey
take its own time.
Fred found he could easily keep up with the small animal, and the
miner chatted pleasantly until they came to New Strike. Then, at the
suggestion of Mr. Gardner, the boy went to the superintendent of the
stamp mills, to apply for a job.
"Let me know how you make out," said the miner, as he was about to
part from the boy.
"Where will I find you?"
"Oh, I'm going to put up at the hotel. There's only one, so you won't
have much trouble finding me. Just ask for Old Bill Gardner, and
anybody'll point me out. Well, good luck."
"Thank you," answered Fred, as he started toward the stamping mills,
the thundering noise of which could be heard for a long distance.
"Well, what can I do for you?" asked the superintendent sharply, as
Fred entered the office.

"Do you want any boys to drive ore carts? I heard you did."
"We did, but we filled the last place about an hour ago."
Fred's heart sank. If he had been a little earlier, or if he had started
sooner, he might now have had a good job.
"Is there anything else to do around here?" he asked. "I would be glad
to get work of any kind."
"I'm afraid I haven't anything for any one as young as you."
"I am quite strong, though I am only seventeen years old."
"Yes, I must admit you seem a sturdy lad, but, I am sorry to say, I can't
give you any work. If you leave your name and address I'll send for you,
when there is anything."
"Thank you," replied Fred, and he wrote them on a piece of paper the
manager gave him.
"If you were a man now, I could give you work in the mine. But I can't
put boys in there. Have you had any experience in mining?"
"No, but I know something about it from hearing my father tell about it.
He is a miner."
"What is his name?"
Fred told him, and found that, while the manager did not know Mr.
Stanley, he had heard of him.
"I wish, for your father's sake, I could give you work," he said. "I'll
keep you in mind, and you shall have the first job that is open."
"Thank you. I shall try some other places here."
"I would, if I were you, and you can refer to me."

"That is very kind of you."
Fred bade the manager good-morning, and started off to see if there
was not work elsewhere for him. But he found that either all the places
were filled, or that, when there was work, it was of such a nature that
he could not do it.
Somewhat discouraged, he sat down in a shady place to eat his simple
lunch, and, after a drink from a spring, he felt refreshed.
Early that afternoon he had exhausted the possibilities of work in New
Strike.
"I think I'll start back home," he said. "There's no use bothering to look
up Mr. Gardner."
The truth was he disliked to tell the old miner he had not succeeded in
getting work. So Fred started off on his long tramp back to Piddock.
But, as he was passing along the main, and, in truth, the only street of
the town, a voice hailed him.
"Hold on there, Fred," was the cry, and he turned to see the old miner
beckoning to him, from in front of the "Imperial Hotel," as a sign in
front of the one-storied building indicated it to be. "Wait a minute. I
want to speak to you!"
CHAPTER III
THE BURIED TREASURE STORY
Fred turned and walked toward the hotel, the old miner advancing to
meet him.
"Well," asked Mr. Gardner, "how'd you