laughed Jo, "if you could have seen him riding down that slope this morning, with his feet stuck straight out in front of him, and yelling whoa to 'Mosquito.'"

"I thought," said Jeems sadly, "that if I held my feet that way that they would offer enough resistance to the air to stop or slow up Mosquito,--but they didn't."

CHAPTER XVIII

THE DIAGRAM

"What's the use of being a philosopher and a thinker, Jeems," inquired Jim, after the roar of laughter had spent itself at his ludicrous remark, "if you can't invent some way to stop a mite of a pony like Mosquito?"

"There isn't any use trying to be a philosopher," said Jeems frankly, "when you are traveling with such a hair-brained gang as you fellows.

A philosopher has to have time to think, and things keep happening so fast in your company, that you don't get time to breathe. If it isn't the mules running away it is Mosquito, and so it goes."

"Cheer up, Jeems," said Jo. "Just wait until we begin to cruise around the world on our yacht, then you will get lots of time to philosophize."

"Don't believe it," replied Jeems skeptically. "If it isn't pirates it will be sharks, and if it isn't them it will be octopuses."

"In your case it is more likely to be the _mal de mer_," put in Jim with his easy command of French. I believe he had one other phrase that on occasion he could use.

"I suppose that they say _de mer_ because they feel like demurring,"

said Jo glibly.

"_Sacre bleu_, Jo!" cried Jim, using his other phrase. "Don't be so smart."

"Can't help it," replied Jo.

"There will be a sudden and mysterious disappearance if you don't,"

said Jim darkly. By this time they had climbed into clear view of Jeems' cabin.

"Somebody has thrown a rock at your castle and caved the roof in, Jeems," declared Tom.

"Lucky I wasn't home," replied Jeems philosophically.

"It does look like an ancient ruin," said Jim, as they finally reached the little shelf on which the cabin was built.

The pa.s.sing years had evidently done their worst, a large boulder had come down from the mountain above and crashed the roof in. The rudely built chimney had been partially destroyed, and rats and squirrels were making themselves at home. Jeems stood looking sadly at his former cabin, for Jeems had a strain of sentiment in him and he had spent three interesting and quite happy years at this spot.

"It's kind of like Rip Van Winkle returning home after his long absence, isn't it?" inquired Jo.

"Only I don't see my faithful dog," replied the shepherd, waking from his reverie.

"You must have built here for the view, Jeems," remarked Jim.

"I used to sit out here on the shelf many a summer evening," said Jeems, "and look off towards the east till it got dark. I suspect that's what helped to make me kind of dreamy; those years."

"Shouldn't wonder," said Jim.

It was a wonderful view, and it held the boys for a minute, accustomed though they were to unusual scenes. There was a vastness and freedom about it that would be hard to equal. Range after range extended to the eastward, pine-clad, with deep valleys intervening; to the south some great rocky summits, blue, impalpable, mysterious, upon the verge of the horizon. Far below over a granite chasm wheeled an eagle on darkening wings. The wonderfully clear air was full of the murmur of the pines; the tone that sings of the days of primeval mystery. Far down below the boys could see Juarez with the horses and mules.

"h.e.l.lo, Juarez," cried Jim. Then in a few seconds came the answering call, clear and distinct.

"It's wonderful how far you can hear, in this country," said Jo.

"What are you fellows stopping so long to admire, scenery?" inquired Tom. "You would think that you never saw any before. Why don't you investigate the ruins and see if you can't find that plan of the 'Lost Mine.'"

"Don't get excited, Tommy," urged Jim. "Maybe you won't be elected President of 'The Lost Mine Co.' anyway."

"I'd rather be Treasurer anyhow," replied the practical Tom.

"You'll be the janitor of the company," said Jim severely, "because you have had so much experience shoveling coal on the _Sea Eagle_."

Tom's face flushed, and there was an early promise of a mixing up, when Jeems intervened.

"Come, boys, never mind about fixing up your company, I'll show you where I hid that plan about twenty years ago."

"It won't be any good now, after all that interval," declared the pessimistic Tom.

In spite of Tom's prophecy the boys went heartily to work to clear away the debris so they could get at the particular stone behind which Jeems had hidden the doc.u.ment.

"What shape was it?" inquired Jim.

"Something like this," replied Jeems, kicking a stone near his foot.

"Maybe that's it," said Tom.

"No, it isn't. That stone was some narrower than this." After a half hour's industrious work they finally uncovered it, and very carefully lifted it out of its place. They leaned eagerly forward while Jim swept his hand around trying to locate it.

"Hold a light so," he ordered.

"Aye, aye, sir," replied Jo. Then under the quick flare of a match, Jim eagerly gripped a piece of yellowed cardboard.

"This is her picture, boys!" he cried, with much sentiment.

"Let's see the other side," said Tom.

"It's going to be difficult to make this out," remarked Jim, after close scrutiny. He sat down upon a rock and began studying it, with the other boys looking over his shoulder.

"That crooked line must mean a creek," said Jo.

"I think it represents the top of a ridge," remarked Tom.

"This other work of art below the ridge-creek appears to me to be a pine tree with a cross on one side of it."

"You are right, Skipper," said Jeems. "I got as far as that tree, but that was my limit. I could not make any headway beyond that."

"It looks to me as if that design further down were a pathway with a mill of some kind on one side and a cabin a little further down."