"Maybe; although Blower wa'n't never the fellow to take backwater,"

responded the other, doubtfully.

"We'll git him yet; see if we don't," was the savage response. And then followed some conversation in such a low tone that the boys could not hear what was said.

But it was easy to surmise one thing, which was that these men hated Abe Blower most cordially. And because of this, and because they had heard that Blower was a strictly upright, honest man, the chums concluded that these fellows in the car had been trying in some manner to put through some land deal that was not strictly fair, and that Abe Blower had foiled their designs.

Presently a third man, a fellow named Larry Jaley, joined the others.

All were very bitter against Abe Blower, and each vowed that he would "git square" with the old prospector sooner or later. From their talk the boys learned that the men, along with some others of the crowd, were stopping in b.u.t.te at the Solid Comfort House, a place that, so they afterwards learned, bore a very shady reputation. Nothing was said about where Abe Blower was stopping, and the youths did not dare to inquire, for fear of making the men suspicious.

"They might think we were friends of Blower sent to spy on them," said Phil. "They must know we have heard some of their talk."

"If Abe Blower is so well known in b.u.t.te it ought to be an easy matter to find him," returned Dave. "We can look for him in the directory and the telephone book, and ask for him at the hotels and mining offices."

"And remember, I have one of his old addresses," said Roger. "Maybe the folks at that place know where he has gone."

It was dark when they rolled into the railroad station at b.u.t.te, a typical western mining city, with a population of about thirty-five thousand souls.

"No use in trying to do anything to-night," said Roger, who was tired and knew his chums must be the same. "We'll go to some first-cla.s.s hotel and start on our hunt for Blower in the morning."

"Yes, I'm dead tired," answered Phil, who had been yawning for the last hour.

The boys had the address of a good hotel, and were soon on the way to the place. They saw the man called Sol Blugg start off down a side street with his companions.

"I wish we would run into Link Merwell and Job Haskers," remarked Dave, as they hurried towards the hotel.

"What good would that do?" demanded the senator's son.

"Then I'd know they hadn't left b.u.t.te to look for that lost mine."

"Humph! you don't suppose they are going to find it all in a minute, do you, Dave?" asked Phil.

"No, but an idea just struck me."

"What?" asked both of the others.

"Supposing Merwell and Haskers should hunt up Blower and see what he had to say about the lost mine."

"Phew!" cried Roger. "Do you think they'd dare?"

"They might. They have done some pretty bold things lately. Link is real reckless."

Roger came to a halt on the pavement.

"Maybe we had better hunt for Abe Blower right away," he declared.

"Oh, come on, and get to bed," yawned Phil. "Where are you going to look for him this time of night?"

"I don't know, exactly. But we could make some inquiries."

"Let us go to the hotel first," said Dave. "Then, after we have secured rooms, we can hunt around, if we want to."

A little later they found themselves at the hotel, where they secured two rooms with a bath. At the desk they asked the clerk if he knew an old miner and prospector named Abe Blower.

"Seems to me I've heard the name," replied the clerk. "But I can't just place it. You might ask Tom Dillon, over yonder. He knows all the old-timers in b.u.t.te," and the clerk pointed to a man who sat in a corner of the hotel lobby, reading a newspaper.

Tom Dillon, round-faced and white-haired, put down his paper and smiled as the boys came up and addressed him. He was an old-time miner, who had "struck it rich," and who had known how to take care of his wealth.

"Sure, I know most of the old-timers!" he exclaimed, genially, in reply to Roger's question. "Who are you looking for?"

"Let me introduce myself first," said Roger. He gave his name and also those of his chums. "I am the nephew of the late Maurice Harrison, of this place."

"You don't tell me! Maurice's nevvy, eh? Then you must be the son o'

Senator Morr, o' the East?"

"Yes."

"Glad to know ye! Put her there, young man!" And Tom Dillon shook hands cordially all around. "Yes, I knowed your uncle well--we did a bit of prospectin' together onct. It broke me all up to hear how he died--so many o' the old-timers droppin' off."

"It was a great shock to our family," replied Roger. "Perhaps you know what brought me to b.u.t.te," he continued, looking at the old miner, questioningly.

"To settle up the estate, I reckon."

"In a way, yes. I suppose you have heard about that lost mine?"

"What, the Landslide? Sure. An' she's gone fer good, lad; don't bank on ever findin' it ag'in, for if you do, well, I think ye'll be disapp'inted." And Tom Dillon shook his head slowly.

"You really think it can't be found?" asked Dave.

"I ain't sayin' that. But chances are all ag'in it. Whar that mine was located, the big landslide changed the hull face o' nature, an' all kinds o' landmarks have been teetotally lost."

"Well, I am going to do what I can," put in Roger. "And my two chums are going to help me. But I was going to ask you a question. The clerk suggested that we ask you. Do you know an old miner named Abe Blower?"

"Sure."

"Can you tell me where he is now?"

"He lives with an old lady named Carmody, on the other side o' town. She is some kind o' a relative of his, and came on from the South to keep house fer him. But he ain't home much. He spends most of his time prospectin'. Seems like he can't give it up."

"I wish you'd give me his address," said the senator's son, and, having received it, put it down in a note-book.

As late as it was, it was decided to walk across town to where Abe Blower resided, and the three boys set out without delay.

"I'd get a cab, if any was around," said Roger, who saw how tired Phil was.

"Maybe, Phil, you had better go to bed and let Roger and me go to Blower's home," suggested Dave.

"No, if you go, I'll go too," declared the shipowner's son, who never cared to be left behind when anything was going on.