They did try, but with small success. Laboring all day in the cold the only result was a few little yellow pebbles that Tom found imbedded in the ice. But they were gold, and the finding of them gave the seekers hope as they wearily began their task the following day. The weather seemed even colder, and there was the indication of a big storm.

They were scattered in different places on the ice, not far away from the big cave, each one picking away vigorously. Suddenly Abe, who had laboriously worked his way down to the dirt, gave an exultant yell.

"I've struck it! Struck it rich!" he shouted, leaping about as he threw down his pick, "Look here, everybody!" He stooped down over the hole. They all ran to his side, and saw him lifting from a little pocket in the dirt, several large, yellow pebbles.

"Gold! Gold!" cried Abe. "We've struck it at last!"

For a moment no one spoke, though there was a wild beating of their hearts. Then, off toward the farther end of the valley there sounded a curious noise. It was a shouting and yelling, mingled with the snapping of whips and the howls and barkings of dogs.

"Bless my handkerchief!" cried Mr. Damon. "What's that?"

They all saw a moment later. Approaching over the frozen snow were several Eskimo sledges, drawn by dog teams, and the native drivers were shouting and cracking their whips of walrus hide.

"The natives are coming to attack us!" cried Ned.

Tom said nothing. He was steadily observing the approaching sleds.

They came on rapidly. Abe was holding the golden nuggets in his gloved hands.

"Get the guns! Where's your electric rifle, Tom?" cried Mr. Damon.

"I don't believe we'll need the guns--just yet," answered the young inventor, slowly.

"Bless my cartridge-belt! Why not?" demanded the eccentric man.

"Because those are the Fogers," replied Tom. "They have followed us--Andy and his father! Andy Foger here!" gasped Ned.

Tom nodded grimly. A few minutes later the sleds had come to a halt not far from our friends, and Andy, followed by his father, leaped off his conveyance. The two were clad in heavy fur garments.

"Ha, Tom Swift! You didn't get here much ahead of us!" exulted the bully. "I told you I'd get even with you! Come on, now, dad, we'll get right to work digging for gold!"

Tom and his companions did not know what to say.

CHAPTER XXII

JUMPING THE CLAIM

There was a sneering look on Andy's face, and Mr. Foger, too, seemed delighted at having reached the valley of gold almost as soon as had our friends. Tom and the others looked at the means by which the bully had arrived. There were four sleds, each one drawn by seven dogs, and in charge of a dark-skinned native. On the two foremost sleds Andy and his father had ridden, while the other two evidently contained their supplies.

For a moment Andy surveyed Tom's party and then, turning to one of the native drivers, he said:

"We'll camp here. You fellows get to work and make an ice house, and some of you cook a meal--I'm hungry."

"No need build ice house," replied the native, who spoke English brokenly.

"Why not?" demanded Andy.

"Live in ice cave-plenty much ob'em--plenty much room," went on the Eskimo, indicating several of the large caverns.

"Ha! That's a good idea," agreed Mr. Foger, "Andy, my son, we have houses already made for us, and very comfortable they seem, too.

We'll take up our quarters in one, and then hunt for the gold."

Mr. Foger seemed to ignore Tom and his friends. Abe Abercrombie strode forward.

"Look here, you Fogers!" he exclaimed without ceremony, "was you calculatin' on stakin' any claims here?"

"If you mean are we going to dig for gold, we certainly are,"

replied Andy insolently, "and you can't stop us."

"I don't know about that," went on Abe, grimly. "I ain't goin' t'

say nothin' now, about th' way you stole th' map from me, an' made a copy, but I am goin t' say this, an' that is it won't be healthy fer any of you t' git in my way, or t' try t' dig on our claims!"

"We'll dig where we please!" cried Andy. "You don't own this valley!"

"We own as much of it as we care to stake out, by right of prior discovery!" declared Tom, firmly.

"And I say we'll dig where we please!" insisted Andy. "Hand me a pick," he went on to another of the natives.

"Wait jest a minute," spoke Abe calmly, as he put his little store of nuggets in the pocket of his fur coat, and drew out a big revolver. "It ain't healthy t' talk that way, Andy Foger, an' th'

sooner you find that out th' better. You ain't in Shopton now, an'

th' only law here is what we make for ourselves. Tom, maybe you'd better get out th' rifles, an' your electric gun, after all. It seems like we might have trouble," and Abe cooly looked to see if his weapon was loaded.

"Oh, of course we didn't mean to usurp any of your rights, my dear friend!" exclaimed Mr. Foger quickly, and he seemed nervous at the sight of the big revolver, while Andy hastily moved until he was behind the biggest of the sledge drivers. "We don't want to violate any of your rights," went on Mr. Foger. "But this valley is large, and do I understand that you claim all of it?"

"We could if we wanted to," declared Abe stoutly; "but we'll be content with three-quarter of it, seein' we was here fust. If you folks want t' dig fer gold, go over there," and he pointed to a spot some distance away.

"We'll dig where we please!" cried Andy.

"Oh, will you?" and there was an angry light in Abe's eyes. "I guess, Tom, you'd better git--"

"No! No! My son is wrong--he is too hasty," interposed Mr. Foger.

"We will go away--certainly we will. The valley is large enough for both of us--just as you say. Come, Andy!"

The bully seemed about to refuse, but a look at Abe's angry face and a sight of Mr. Damon coming from the cave where the airship was, with a rifle, for the eccentric man had hastened to get his weapon--this sight calmed Andy down. Without further words he and his father got back on their sleds, and were soon being driven off to where a large ice cave loomed up, about a mile away.

"Good riddance," muttered the miner, "now we kin go on diggin'

without bein' bothered by that little scamp."

"I don't know about that," spoke Tom, shaking his head dubiously.

"There's always trouble when Andy Foger's within a mile. I'm afraid we haven't seen the last of him."

"He'd better not come around here ag'in," declared Abe. "Queer, how he should turn up, jest when I made a big strike."

"They must have come on all the way from where their airship was wrecked, by means of dog sleds," observed Ned, and the others agreed with him. Later they learned that this was so; that after the accident to the ANTHONY, the crew had refused to proceed farther north, and had gone back. But Mr. Foger had hired the natives with the dog teams, and, by means of the copy of the map and with what knowledge his Eskimos had, had reached the valley of gold.