The Argosy — page 39: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE PRIZE OF THE MISSING GOLD MINE. 3 231 At last as the mule appeared fora moment, phantom-like against the sky upon a crest ahead, then passed out of sight, Campthorne resolved to give up the chase. ‘‘Vll goas far as the place where I saw him last,’’ he thought. ‘‘ Then if he hasn’t stopped, I’ll pull up and wait till daylight.”’ He toiled to the summit, and saw beyond it a narrow, rock walled valley. In this the mule had stopped and was grazing as placidly as if the long chase he had led his master was merely a grace before supper. Campthorne went down into the valley, took the pack from the Mulato, and picketed him out - to feed. ‘Then he dropped down, dead tired, to the ground and rolled in his blankets, slept like a log until daybreak. His first care on waking was to satisfy himself that Mulato was there all right ; then he looked about him to see what kind of place he had fallen upon. The valley was completely inclosed by cliffs except for the narrow opening at its foot by which he had entered it the previous night. Through this opening led an old path. Campthorne got his breakfast, and then went to fetch Mulato to pack him for the start. The mule had pulled up his picket pin in the night and now was standing behind a large rock near the valley side. On turning the rock to drive the mule toward the place where the pack lay Campthorne started back at the sight that met his eyes. It was the skeleton of a nian, stretched upon the ground; and among the fleshless bones were the heads and broken shafts of three Apache arrows. The mule stood as if on guard over the skeleton and instinctively Campthorne knew that the bones before him were the bones of Pedro Sanchez. : The arrows told plainly what the fate of the Mexican had been. Camp- thorne wondered what attraction had brought the old mine seeker ‘to this spot. His eyes scanned the ground and the cliffs, but not a sign could he find of mineral, or that any man had ever searched there before him. He looked at his ‘‘ time stick’’ with only nine more notches to make in it before December should have come. He had not a day to spare if he were to return on time to Los Majones. ‘This is Last Hope Valley,’’ he said disconsolately. ‘‘ Here ends my prospecting, and comes my farewell to Lola. I'll not go back to Los Majones to be invited to Don Enrico’s wedding. So here’s for white settlements and a new start in life! ’’ He set to work to pack his mule, but when all was ready for the start the thought recurred to him of the lonely, unburied skeleton. ‘It won’t take long to tuck him under ground,’’ he told himself, ‘‘ It’s the right thing to do, especially as I came here with Pedro’s mule.’’ With his pick and shovel he went to the place where the bones lay and looked about for a place to make the grave. He chosea smooth slope at the foot of the cliff and began with his spade to loosen the earth. After a few strokes the point of the pick, sinking more deeply, fell upon something solid that was not earth or stone. He gave another blow—it was unmistakably wood that he struck. With his shovel he cleared away the loosened earth and saw that he had come upon a platform of squared timbers. Campthorne did not stop to speculate upon his strange discovery, but worked with a will to clear the earth from above the timbers. In an hour’s (S@) =) a i ae oa 2 as oe Gomichbooks