It
only rears up when the wind is in the Southeast, as it is now. But
say, you said something about a hermit just now?"
"I only said I thought it strange a fellow could live here through all
the racket, year in and year out, just to get away from his kind," Bob
remarked.
At that Frank laughed.
"But what if he had a big object in it, Bob? What if some daring
prospector, taking his life in his hands, had plunged into one of these
caves of the winds, this one right here, for instance, and struck it
rich. Gold will make men do nearly anything. I've seen 'em go crazy
over finding a nugget, or yellow sand in their pan. Don't you see what
I mean, Bob? Have you forgotten little Lopez, and how frightened he
looked when we spoke about keeping him company?"
Bob uttered a cry that might stand for either astonishment or delight,
perhaps both.
"Frank, it just takes you to see through the mill stone, even if it
hasn't got any hole in it," he declared. "I understand what you mean
now. Little Lopez has been coming here for a year or more, always
bringing supplies. Perhaps he carries away the gold dust the miner has
gathered in that time, and no one the wiser. It has all been a dead
secret. And the terror of the Indians for this haunted mountain, as
well as the way the cowboys leave it alone, has helped this bold miner.
Frank, your shot hit the bull's eye, and who knows but what we may be
on the way to find out the truth right now?"
CHAPTER XIX
THE WORKING OF THE GOLD LODE
"Now you know what I think, Bob; but after all I may be on the wrong
track," said Frank, after his companion had expressed himself so freely.
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