"But it does worry me. You can't do anything in this world without money."

"It doesn't take much to get an outfit for a gold prospector," replied the miner. "For that matter I'll undertake to see that they get what they need. I have friends enough out there to make that part easy."

"But the railroad fares?"

"We won't need any railroad fares."

"How are you going to get out to that place with the queer name, then?"

asked Mrs. Crosby.

"Dizzy Gulch, you mean? That is a queer name, but it's a good one. It makes you dizzy when you stand on the edge and look down. But we'll get there all right. It's not more than eight hundred miles from here."

"You can't walk that far," objected Nettie.

"I know that," replied the miner. "We could, but we don't want to. We'll go on horseback."

"Horseback?" repeated Jed.

"Yes. I've got money enough to purchase a good nag, and I guess your father would be willing for you boys to take the animals here. He'll not need them much longer. How about it, Mr. Crosby?"

The farmer looked thoughtful.

"You seem to get over most of the difficulties," he remarked.

"Then we can go, can't we, dad?" exclaimed Jed.

"I don't know. I must consider it further. I suppose you could take the horses. They'll only be eating their heads off in the barn, after the crops are in."

"That's the way I figured it," resumed Gabe. "Now I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll write to Ted and ask him to send me word where is the best place to strike for. Then I'll get my outfit together, such as there's left of it, look around for a horse that can travel a long distance, and we'll set out for the gold regions."

"That's the way to talk!" cried Jed. "We'll all be millionaires soon!"

"Now hold on!" remonstrated Gabe. "Don't get the idea that you can go out there and pick up gold off the ground. There are some places, I admit, where the nuggets are close to the surface, but they're few and far between. If we get any gold we'll probably have to dig for it, and digging for the yellow boys is as hard as cultivating corn or hoeing potatoes. I know, for I've tried both. But, at the same time, I don't see why we haven't as good a chance as lots of others. We'll try, anyhow--that is, if your father gives his consent."

"I suppose I might as well," said Mr. Crosby slowly. "You three seem to have it all planned out, anyhow. But I can't spare the horses for a week or two."

"That will be time enough," replied the miner. "I want to hear from Ted again." And there the conversation, for the time being, came to an end.

"It hardly seems possible; does it, Will?" asked Jed, when they were going to bed that night. "To think that we're going to become real gold miners!"

"Maybe we won't get any gold after all our trouble," suggested his less hopeful brother.

"Oh, cheer up!" advised Jed. "Wait until Gabe gets to grubbing around with that lucky pick of his, and the nuggets will just roll out, they'll be so glad we've come."

Will laughed. There was no withstanding the jolly good nature of his elder brother.

Enthusiasm for the proposed gold hunt had not waned the next day. Mr.

Crosby had talked the matter over with his wife and, though she was naturally timid and nervous, she made no objections to letting the boys go. Mr. Harrison seemed quite confident that in the new diggings there was a good chance of making a moderate fortune.

"Then you can pay off the mortgage on the farm," said Mrs. Crosby to her husband.

"If the boys get money enough for that out of their gold mining, I think I'll give up farming, and become a prospector myself," said Mr. Crosby, with a smile.

Fortunately for the plan, the barley crop turned out better than any one expected, and the price was very high. Mr. Crosby received enough money to insure them against hardships that winter, and even enough to buy another horse, as he might need one if the boys took the two. He secured an animal at a low price. It was not as good as the two he had, but Jed and Will would have to have steeds that could stand a certain amount of hard life, if they were to go to the gold regions.

In the meanwhile Mr. Harrison had another letter from Ted Jordan, and this confirmed the first rumors of rich strikes. There was quite a rush of miners and others to the new fields, Jordan wrote, and he advised Gabe and the boys to hurry.

So, one morning, with their simple outfits on the saddles back of them, the boys and Gabe Harrison mounted their horses, and started off for the golden West.

"Don't you boys go to gambling," cautioned Mrs. Crosby, as she waved a farewell to her sons.

"Now, mother, you know they won't do that," said Nettie.

"I know it--but--but I--I just had to say something," replied her mother, as she tried to hide the tears that would persist in coming into her eyes.

"Look out for a bagful of gold nuggets!" called back Jed. "I'll send them by the first mail."

"All right," answered his father with a laugh. "Good luck, boys, and write when you get a chance."

"Good-by!" they chorused, and Gabe Harrison waved his broad-brimmed hat at the little group standing in front of the farmhouse. Soon they were out of sight down the road.

"It's--it's lonesome--without the boys," said Mrs. Crosby softly, as she went in the house and closed the door.

CHAPTER VIII

THE BUCKING BRONCO

"How long do you think it will take us to get to the gold fields?" asked Jed, of the old miner, as they jogged forward.

"It's hard to say," was the answer. "You mustn't be in too much of a hurry. It's a good rule, in this business, to make haste slowly. You can't make a fortune gold-hunting in one day, and you've got to save your own strength, and that of your horse. A horse is a man's best friend in this country."

The route to the West had been carefully laid out by Mr. Harrison, who knew the land well. He had selected a line of march that, while it was not the shortest, would bring them to the Montana gold fields in good shape to start in at once with their prospecting.

For a week the travelers made fair time, stopping at night in various small towns, where living would be cheaper than in large cities, for their capital was limited. Nothing of note occurred, the weather was good, and Jed and Will began to think that gold hunting, or at least the preliminary part of it, was very much easier than farming.

"Say, I'd hate to go back now, cultivating corn in that hot field, wouldn't you?" Jed asked his brother one afternoon, as they were jogging slowly along.

"I certainly would, but I wouldn't mind now, if I had a drink of nice, cold switchel."

"Me either. You don't see any signs of a spring along the road anywhere, do you, Mr. Harrison?"

"No, and I wish I did, for the horses are pretty thirsty. But we ought to strike one soon."

"With all that, this is easier than farming," went on Jed.