CHAPTER II
A TOWN GONE MAD
With a screech of the brakes, the auto came to a stop not far from thethrong that surrounded the two men, who were still digging away withsticks between the railroad tracks. The three lads leaped out, wormedtheir way through the press of persons, and, gaining a place where theycould get a better view, looked on in wonder.
“It’s Jim all right,” murmured Bob.
“Then he must have left our mine to shift for itself,” said Jerry.
“Maybe it’s no good any more,” suggested Ned. “Jim Nestor wouldn’tleave that gold mine without some good reason.”
Ned had spoke louder than he intended, and at his words one of the menlooked up. A smile illuminated his bronzed face, and he called out:
“By crickey! There are the boys!”
“Jim Nestor!” exclaimed Jerry. “What brings you East? We thought youwere at our mine!”
“I just had to come!” replied he who answered to the name of JimNestor. “Boys, it’s a queer story, but I’ve got something else on handjust now--me and Harvey Brill here. I’ll be with you in a few minutes,just as soon as we see how far this lode goes,” and he began diggingagain with his stick between the ties.
And now, may I beg your indulgence for just a moment or two--you, mynew readers--while I explain a little bit about the three boys who areto be the heroes of this story? Those of you who have read the previousbooks in this series may skip this part, as I know you will, but othersmay care to know a little more about Bob Baker, Jerry Hopkins and NedSlade.
The three chums had lived for several years in the New England town ofCresville. Bob was the son of Mr. Andrew Baker, a rich banker; Jerrythe only son of a well-to-do widow--Mrs. Julia Hopkins; while Ned’sfather, Aaron Slade, was a well-known department store proprietor.
The boys’ acquaintance began when they each became possessed ofbicycles, and went on trips together. Then they got motor cycles, asrelated in the first volume of the series, “The Motor Boys,” and,winning a race, they got an auto as a prize.
In their car they went on a tour overland, with a certain ProfessorSnodgrass, an enthusiastic collector of bugs and insects for variouscolleges and museums. The professor was quite a character.
After their tour overland, during which many exciting incidentshappened, the motor boys traveled to Mexico, discovering a buried city,and came home across the plains, on which trip they discovered thehermit of Lost Lake.
About this time motor boating came much into prominence, and our threeheroes, of course, had to have a water craft. How they got one, andmade many a trip in it, is told in the book, “The Motor Boys Afloat.”Their voyage on the Atlantic was filled with adventures of moment, andwhen they went to the strange waters of the Florida Everglades they hadtrials and troubles as well as a good time.
Their journey to the Pacific enabled them to locate a strange derelict,after considerable hardships.
It was to be expected, with the progress made in navigating the air,that the motor boys would, sooner or later, want a biplane, or somecraft that could take them above the earth. In the book “The Motor Boysin the Clouds,” I related how they went on a long trip for fame andfortune, while later, when they went over the Rockies, they solved astrange mystery of the air. Then they traveled over the ocean and madea marvelous rescue in mid-air.
Getting on the wing again, they sought the airship treasure, and inthe book that immediately precedes this one, called “The Motor BoysAfter a Fortune,” I related how the three chums sought to locate aquantity of radium, said to be deposited in the Grand Canyon of theColorado. Incidentally they located a hut on Snake Island, and rescueda celebrated scientist.
The boys had not been back home very long when the present story opens.I might add that though the lads had many friends they had one or twoenemies, of whom Noddy Nixon, a rival airship enthusiast, was one,together with his crony, Bill Berry. Noddy and Bill never lost a chanceto do our friends a bad turn.
In one of their many adventures the boys had met with Jim Nestor, anold miner and prospector, and they had been able to help him locate arich gold mine in Arizona. The boys were given shares in it for theirhelp, and Mr. Nestor remained out West to work the claim, sending theboys their profits at intervals. It can well be imagined how surprisedthe lads were when they saw the old miner in their home town, engagedin the curious occupation of digging in the dirt between the railroadtracks.
“He must be crazy!” exclaimed Bob.
“What’s he up to, anyhow?” asked Ned.
“Sure, they’re both crazy!” declared a man in the throng about thedepot. “They got off the through train a little while ago, and one ofthem--that big fellow--right away started to dig in the dirt with anold broom handle. Then the other did the same thing, and they’ve beenat it ever since. Do you boys know ’em?”
“One of them--Jim Nestor--is the foreman at a gold mine in which wehave an interest,” said Jerry. “The other I don’t know, except that Jimsaid his name was Harvey Brill.”
“Well, they’re both crazy,” said the man.
“That one chap may be--but not Jim Nestor,” declared Jerry, with apositive shake of his head. “Jim knows what he is doing, and I guesshis partner does, too.”
“But what are they doing?” asked the man. “Have they lost something?”
“I don’t know,” answered Jerry. “But I’ll soon find out. I’ll askJim----”
He was interrupted by a shout from the man designated as Harvey Brill.He dropped his stick, caught up a piece of rock, and cried:
“I knew it! You can’t fool me, Jim, when I see pay dirt! I got aglimpse of it as soon as we hopped off the steam cars. My eyes are goodfor something yet. Look there!”
“That’s right. There’s the yellow stuff as sure as you’re born!” agreedJim Nestor, as he critically examined the piece of rock his friend heldout to him. “But how in the world do you reckon it ever got here--onthe railroad track?”
“Give it up, but it’s here all right. Now we’ll have to get picksand shovels, a pan, a cradle maybe, and wash out some of the gravel,and----”
“Say, do you fellows want to be killed?” yelled Mr. Hitter, thefreight, station and ticket agent, as he pushed through the crowd andconfronted the two men. “Do you want to be run over?”
“Well, we ain’t just hankering after it, stranger,” said Jim Nestor,slowly. “Were you calculating on having us treated that way?”
“Why the down express is due in another minute!” cried Mr. Hitter. “Ifyou don’t get off the track you’ll be run down! Get off I say!”
“Not just yet, son,” said Harvey Brill, calmly. “This is too good aplace to leave. If we’ve got a minute I may turn up another bit of paydirt. It won’t take me a second to get out of the way of the train, andthat leaves me fifty-nine seconds to dig in.”
“But you must get off the track!” insisted the agent. “You can’t dig upthe ballast that way. The rails may spread and cause an accident. Getout of the way! There’s the whistle of the train!” and he rushed about,dancing up and down, pushing the crowd off the rails. “Leave the trackalone!” he shouted. “I’ll call out the police if you don’t.”
“I guess he’s right, Harvey,” said Jim Nestor, slowly. “We had betterpostpone our operations a while. Besides, I want to introduce you tothe friends of mine we came East to see.”
“All right, Jim, I’m agreeable,” assented the other, as he picked upsome more bits of rock. “But I sure do hate to leave this pay dirt.”
“Jim--Jim Nestor!” cried Jerry. “What’s it all about, anyhow? Why areyou here? What are you digging on the tracks for?”
“I’ll tell you soon, Jerry,” said the old miner. “We came East onpurpose to see you, and just by accident we happened to see signs ofgold in the track ballast here. Of course it----”
“Gold!” cried half a dozen in the throng.
“Sure, gold!” put in Harvey Brill. “You can’t fool me on the yellowstuff,” and he he
ld out his hand in which several yellow particlesgleamed dully.
“Gold! Gold!” murmured the crowd, eagerly.
“Come on! Tell us about it!” urged Ned.
“Yes, we’ve got our car here,” added Jerry. “Come on to my house, Jim,and give us the story.”
“I’m agreeable,” assented the mine foreman. “Harvey, let me make youacquainted with three of the liveliest boys in the United States,” andhe presented Jerry, Ned and Bob.
“Glad to know you,” spoke Mr. Brill. “I sort of hate to leave thesediggings,” and he glanced back at the tracks; “but if there’s a traincoming I s’pose I’ve got to. But I can come back. It’s as pretty a bitof pay dirt as I’ve seen in some time. Now where’s the gasoline gig?”
“This way,” spoke Jerry, leading his chums and friends through thethrong. Mr. Hitter was having trouble. The crowd pressed across thetracks, eager to look at the place where the two miners had beendigging.
“Get back! Get back!” cried the agent. “The express is coming!”
He fairly thrust the curious ones off the track as the whistle of theapproaching train was heard. Into the auto hurried the boys and theirfriends and, forbearing to question Mr. Nestor and his acquaintance onthe road, Jerry and his chums soon had them at his house.
“Now tell us all about it!” urged the tall lad. “Why are you here, Jim;and what do you want us to do?”
“What do I want you to do?” repeated Jim, slowly. “Well, I’ll tell you.I want you to help my friend here--Harvey Brill--recover sixty nuggetsof gold.”
“Sixty nuggets of gold?” repeated the motor boys, in a chorus.
“That’s it,” said Mr. Brill, calmly. “Sixty nuggets, and all of ’emfairly big ones.”
“Are they on the railroad track?” asked Bob.
“No, son, they’re in the hardest valley to get to that I ever saw,”replied the old miser; “and they’re the prettiest nuggets I ever metup with. Sixty of ’em, and they’re on the border between Montana andCanada. I need help to get ’em back again, and Jim here suggested youboys. If you’d like to have a try, and go through some of the wildestcountry you ever saw, why----”
But Mr. Brill was interrupted by a cry from without. There was apounding of feet on the porch of the Hopkins home, and a shrill voiceyelled:
“Hey, fellows--Bob--Jerry--Ned!--Come on out--big excitement--wholetown gone gold-crazy--they’re tearing up the railroad tracks--going toorder out the militia--blow up the place with dynamite--people gonewild--taking up the ties--looking for nuggets--Hitter is dancing up anddown--he’s sent for the railroad president in a special train--comeon--lots of fun--it’s great--let’s get some--come on!”
A silence followed, broken only by the rapid breathing of someone justoutside the long windows of the library, opening on the porch, nearwhich the motor boys and their friends sat.
“What’s that--a phonograph broke loose?” asked Mr. Brill.
“I guess it’s Andy Rush,” said Jerry, laughing. “That’s the way healways talks.”
“Well, he wants to look out or he’ll bust!” said the man who hadspoken of the sixty nuggets of gold. “I never heard such rapid-fireconversation.”
“Come on!” burst out Andy. “Everybody’s going--they’re wild--tearing upthe tracks!”
“What do you suppose he means?” asked Ned.
“Give it up,” replied Bob. “It’s just some of his nonsense I guess.”
“No--look!” cried Jerry, pointing through the window at several men andboys, with picks and shovels over their shoulders, hurrying toward therailroad. At the same time, from the direction of the station, whichwas not far from Jerry’s house, could be heard a murmur of many voices.
“By Jove!” cried Ned. “Andy is right! The whole town has gonegold-crazy! Come on, fellows!” and he fairly leaped through the longwindow.