He was a sort of
miser in secrets. I did think that some day the old man would reveal
something of value to me; he pretended to think a great deal of me. I
saved his life at a critical moment; he was actually bound to the stake,
and I shot the rascal who was about to light the fire. They intended to
burn him alive, and the arrival of myself and party was just in time."
"Do the Indians still burn their prisoners at the stake?"
"These were not Indians--they were his own countrymen. They had tried to
force a confession from him, and because he refused to reveal the
whereabouts of the gold they thought he had stored away somewhere, they
were set to murder him in anger and revenge."
"And you saved him?"
"I did."
"And he never revealed his secrets to you?"
"Only the secret of this cave. He often made strange remarks and hinted
that some day I would receive my reward. We roomed here together all of
one winter, but he died and never opened his mouth to reveal where his
gold was, if it is true that he had any. I believe he did, but it will
never do me any good, and I do want to make a fortune somehow, but I
suppose I never will. Yes, lad, there are thousands of skeletons of
gold-seekers hid away in caverns in these mountains, victims of the same
ambition which is leading us to take such desperate chances.
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