CHAPTER XX
AT THE ROLLING THUNDER MINE
“What a magnificent view!”
It was Jack Rover who spoke. The party had been on the way to Sunset Trail for over two hours. All were mounted on the steeds Tom Rover had hired from the storekeeper and behind them came the extra horse loaded down with their belongings.
“I’ll say it’s a fine view!” declared Fred, who was riding beside his cousin.
They had reached the top of one of the foothills of the Rocky Mountains and on all sides stretched rocks and forests with here and there a great mound rearing its head toward the sky. At one point there was a sharp cleft in the mountainside, and from this rushed a torrent of water, making a thundering sound as it reached the rocks and the river bed far below.
“That’s where the Rolling Thunder mine gets its name,” said Tom Rover, pointing to the waterfall. “If you close your eyes you’ll think the sound very much like rolling thunder.”
“Is the mine over there?” questioned Andy eagerly.
“Yes. But you can’t see it from this point. We’ve got to cover at least two miles more before we get in sight of the place.”
“And where is Sunset Trail?” questioned Jack, with equal eagerness.
“That’s just above and a little to the south of the falls,” answered his uncle. “We’ll hit that trail just before we get to Gold Hill.”
The climbing up and down the foothills leading to the mountains beyond was no easy task for either horses or riders, yet the boys enjoyed the outing thoroughly.
“It beats reciting in a classroom all hollow,” was the way Randy expressed himself. “Me for a life in the open air every time!”
“I knew you boys would enjoy this,” declared Tom Rover. “If it wasn’t for what I’ve got on my mind just now I’d be as crazy about it as you are,” and for an instant there was an old-time twinkle in his eyes.
“Oh, Uncle Tom, don’t worry about the mine all the time!” burst out Fred. “Things may straighten themselves out quicker than you expect.”
“I hope they do,” answered his uncle. But almost immediately his face again resumed a worried look. The disappearance of Lew Billings had affected him deeply.
Tom Rover had already explained to the boys that many of the men at the mine kept house for themselves and that there was also something of a boarding house, presided over by a colored man, Toby White, who at one time had been a chef in a San Francisco hotel. It was at Toby White’s boarding house they hoped to obtain accommodations during their stay at Gold Hill.
“But of course we won’t want to stay at the boarding house all the time,” said Fred, as the party rode along. “We want to get out on Sunset Trail and do some hunting and fishing.”
“You’re welcome to go out as much as you please, Fred,” answered his uncle. “All I ask of you is that you keep out of trouble.”
“Oh, we know how to take care of ourselves,” answered the youngest Rover confidently.
“But remember, Uncle Tom, we won’t want to leave you if you need us,” put in Jack quickly. “If there is any fighting to be done, we want to be right alongside to help you.”
“I don’t expect any fighting, Jack,” was the reply. “Peter Garrish isn’t that kind of a man. As Hank Butts said, he’s a good deal of a coward. If he tries anything at all, it will be in a very underhand way. What I want him to do is to open the books of the concern and let me talk with the superintendent and the others in charge of the mine and find out exactly how things are going. I have an idea they are selling a good portion of their ore to another concern at a low price and that that concern is owned by Garrish and his friends.”
It was not yet noon when they came in sight of Gold Hill. As they made a turn of the mountain trail they came again within sound of the thundering falls, which was now below them.
The entrance to the Rolling Thunder mine was not a prepossessing one. The opening was in the side of the hill and from it ran a small railway to a crusher a short distance off. There were half a dozen buildings, some of wood and some covered with galvanized iron. Half a dozen men were moving about and they gazed curiously at the new arrivals.
“We’ll go over to Toby White’s boarding house first and see what sort of accommodations we can get there,” said Tom Rover. “I don’t want to give Garrish a chance to keep us out.”
“Keep us out! What do you mean?” questioned Randy.
“He might give Toby a tip not to take us in. He might try to make it so uncomfortable that we couldn’t stay here.”
“But we could camp out if we had to!” cried Fred.
“Sure we could! And that’s what I’ll do if we have to,” answered his uncle.
Tom had been at Toby White’s before, at the time he had made his investment in the mine, and as he had treated the colored boarding-house keeper rather liberally, White was all smiles when he recognized his visitor.
“I suah am proud to see you, Mistah Rover,” he said, bowing. “Got your fambly with you, eh?”
“I have, Toby. My two sons and my two nephews. I want to know if you’ve got accommodations for us.”
“I ce’tainly has. Come right in and make you’selves at home. Dinner will be ready in half an hour.”
“We may want to stay quite a while, Toby,” went on Tom Rover, as he dismounted, his action being followed by the boys.
“Stay as long as you please, sir. I can give you a room to you’self and I’ve got two other rooms where the young gentlemen can double up. Just come right in, sir.”
“I wonder if he’d have been so friendly if he knew Uncle Tom was after Peter Garrish’s scalp,” whispered Fred to his cousins.
“Hush, Fred,” admonished Jack in a low tone. “You’d better keep all that sort of talk under your hat for the present.”
Having proceeded to make themselves at home in the rooms by putting away their belongings, the boys rejoined Tom Rover, who had announced that he was going over to the office of the mine, one of the small buildings near the mouth of the mine shaft.
“It’s just possible Garrish may want to see me alone,” announced Tom Rover. “So if I give you boys the hint just make yourselves scarce for the time being,” and so it was arranged.
“But don’t forget if you need us just yell and we’ll come running,” announced Randy. He had heard his mother warn his father not to get into a fight with the mine manager.
While Tom Rover walked over to the office the boys wandered down to the mine opening, gazing curiously at the darkness beyond where only a few lights flickered.
“Gee, I never could see what there was in being a miner—I mean a fellow to work way in the bowels of the earth like this,” remarked Fred.
“I don’t think this is as bad as a coal mine,” answered Andy. “Gosh! that would get your goat, sure. Those poor fellows are hundreds and hundreds of feet out of sight of daylight. If anything gives way, it’s all up with them. I’d rather be a lineman working on the top of telephone poles.”
“Yes, or even an aviator flying through the clouds,” added his twin.
When Tom Rover entered the office attached to the mine he found two young clerks in charge. Neither of them was working. One had a newspaper in his hand and from this was reading some baseball scores. They stared in wonder at their visitor.
“Is Mr. Peter Garrish around?” questioned Tom. His manner was one of authority and the clerks felt instinctively that here was some one who was entitled to their attention.
“Mr. Garrish just stepped out to the mine for a few minutes,” answered one of the clerks. “He’ll be back presently. Anything I can do for you?”
“Did he go down in the mine?” questioned Tom Rover.
“No, he only went over to call up one of the gang foremen. They’re getting ready to set off another charge down there.”
“Then I’ll walk over and see if I can find him.”
The boys walked around the mouth of the mine and then stepped inside for several yards in order that they might get a better view of what was beyond. They were straining their eyes in the semi-darkness when suddenly Jack felt a rather rough hand on his shoulder.
“Hi, you fellows! What are you doing here?” cried an unsympathetic voice. “Don’t you know that strangers have no business in this mine?”
“Excuse us, but we didn’t know we were intruding,” answered Jack, and he and the others retreated to the mouth of the opening, followed by the man who had accosted them. He was a tall, thin individual with gray hair and steely blue-gray eyes.
“Where did you boys come from?” questioned the man abruptly, and looked sharply from one to another.
“My brother and I came with my father,” answered Randy. “These two fellows are my cousins.”
“What’s your name?”
“Randy Rover,” was the answer.
“Randy Rover!” repeated the man, and his manner showed his astonishment. “Are you all Rovers?”
“Yes.”
“Are you the sons of Mr. Thomas Rover of New York?”
“We are,” answered Andy.
“Humph! Did your father send you out here?”
“No. We came with him,” answered Randy, and then he continued quickly: “Who are you?”
“You don’t know that? I thought everybody knew me. I am Mr. Peter Garrish, and I am in charge here. You say you came with your father—where is he?”
“Here he comes now,” answered Randy, as Tom Rover strode toward the crowd.
Peter Garrish looked, and as he saw the parent of the twins his face took on a look of commingled fear and anger. He compressed his lips and gave a slight toss to his head.
“Came to make trouble, I suppose,” he snarled, “Well, it won’t do him any good!”