"I'm not just sure," said George when the boys stretched themselves upon
the ground, "that I'm looking for the right thing anyway."
"What do you expect?" demanded Fred.
"I'm looking for Simon Moultrie's claim, that's all," remarked George
simply.
"Yes, and probably you expected to stumble over a mine with the men all at
work. You expected to find a shaft and mules and men on every side. How
about it, Pop?"
"I'm not quite as bad as that," replied George, joining in the laugh that
greeted Fred's words, "but I'll have to own up I don't know exactly what I
was looking for."
"You're hopeless," laughed his friend, but for some reason silence soon
rested over the little group.
The afternoon was waning and the night would soon be at hand. Already
shadows were creeping over the gulches and canyons and the reflections
were weird and in places fantastic. In the fading light the vivid colors
of the sides of the canyons became softer. The coming of the night seemed
to cast its spell over all.
The Go Ahead Boys had become quiet. Even the stories of Pete, who a few
minutes before had joined the band, seemed to be as unreal as the empty
shells.
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