



Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net







Transcriber's Note:

  Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have
  been preserved.  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal
  signs=.




     THE HAUNTED MINE

     BY

     HARRY CASTLEMON

     AUTHOR OF "THE GUNBOAT SERIES," "ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES,"
     "WAR SERIES," ETC.

     THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.,

     PHILADELPHIA,
     CHICAGO,      TORONTO.




     COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY
     HENRY T. COATES & CO.




CONTENTS.


         CHAPTER                           PAGE

         I. THE SALE OF "OLD HORSE,"          1

        II. CASPER IS DISGUSTED,             13

       III. JULIAN IS ASTONISHED,            24

        IV. WHERE THE BOX WAS,               38

         V. CASPER THINKS OF SOMETHING,      52

        VI. A MR. HABERSTRO APPEARS,         65

       VII. A PLAN THAT DIDN'T WORK,         78

      VIII. CLAUS CALLS AGAIN,               91

        IX. THE MASTER MECHANIC,            105

         X. WHERE ARE THE VALISES?          118

        XI. IN DENVER,                      132

       XII. CASPER NEVINS, THE SPY,         146

      XIII. GETTING READY FOR WORK,         160

       XIV. HOW CASPER WAS SERVED,          174

        XV. HOW A MINE WAS HAUNTED,         188

       XVI. GOOD NEWS,                      201

      XVII. MR. BANTA IS SURPRISED,         215

     XVIII. GRUB-STAKING,                   228

       XIX. GOING TO SCHOOL,                243

        XX. WATERSPOUTS AND BLIZZARDS,      256

       XXI. THE CAMP AT DUTCH FLAT,         271

      XXII. THE HAUNTED MINE,               286

     XXIII. HAUNTED NO LONGER,              302

      XXIV. "THAT IS GOLD,"                 317

       XXV. CLAUS, AGAIN,                   332

      XXVI. CLAUS HEARS SOMETHING,          348

     XXVII. BOB TRIES STRATEGY,             365

    XXVIII. AN INHUMAN ACT,                 380

      XXIX. A TRAMP WITH THE ROBBERS,       392

       XXX. HOME AGAIN,                     406

      XXXI. CONCLUSION,                     420




THE HAUNTED MINE.




CHAPTER I.

THE SALE OF "OLD HORSE."


"Going for twenty-five cents. Going once; going twice; going----"

"Thirty cents."

"Thirty cents! Gentlemen, I am really astonished at you. It is a
disgrace for me to take notice of that bid. Why, just look at that
box. A miser may have hidden the secret of a gold-mine in it. Here it
is, neatly dovetailed, and put together with screws instead of nails;
and who knows but that it contains the treasure of a lifetime hidden
away under that lid? And I am bid only thirty cents for it. Do I hear
any more? Won't somebody give me some more? Going for thirty cents
once; going twice; going three times, and sold to that lucky fellow
who stands there with a uniform on. I don't know what his name is.
Step up there and take your purchase, my lad, and when you open that
box, and see what is in it, just bless your lucky stars that you came
to this office this afternoon to buy yourself rich."

It happened in the Adams Express office, and among those who always
dropped around to see how things were going was the young fellow who
had purchased the box. It was on the afternoon devoted to the sale of
"old horse"--packages which had lain there for a long time and nobody
had ever called for them. When the packages accumulated so rapidly
that the company had about as many on hand as their storeroom could
hold, an auctioneer was ordered to sell them off for whatever he could
get. Of course nobody could tell what was in the packages, and
somebody always bought them by guess. Sometimes he got more than his
money's worth, and sometimes he did not. That very afternoon a man
bought a package so large and heavy that he could scarcely lift it
from the counter, and so certain was he that he had got something
worth looking at that he did not take the package home with him, but
borrowed a hammer from one of the clerks and opened it on the spot,
the customers all gathering around him to see what he had. To the
surprise of everybody, he turned out half a dozen bricks. A partner of
the man to whom the box was addressed had been off somewhere to buy a
brickyard, and, not satisfied with the productions of the yard, had
enclosed the bricks to the man in St. Louis, to see how he liked them.
The purchaser gazed in surprise at what he had brought, and then threw
down the hammer and turned away; but by the time he got to the door
the loud laughter of everybody in the office--and the office was
always full at the sale of "old horse"--caused him to arrest his
steps. By that time he himself was laughing.

"I'll tell you what it is, gentlemen," said he; "those bricks, which
are not worth a nickel apiece, cost me just two dollars."

He was going on to say something more, but the roar that arose caused
him to wait until it was all over. Then he went on:

"I have spent fifty dollars for 'old horse,' and if anybody ever knows
me to spend another dollar in that way I will give him my head for a
football. A man who comes here to squander his money for anything like
that is a dunce, and ought to have a guardian appointed over him. I
wish you all a very good day."

But in spite of this man's experience, Julian Gray had invested in
this box because he thought there was something in it. He did not care
for what the auctioneer said to him, for he talked that way to
everybody; but Julian knew there were no bricks in it, for it was done
up too neatly. The box was not more than twelve inches long and half
as wide, and by shaking it up and down the boy became aware that there
were papers of some kind in it. He paid the clerk the amount of his
bid upon it, picked up his purchase, and started for the door, paying
no heed to the remarks that were offered for his benefit. There he met
another boy, dressed in a uniform similar to the one he himself wore,
and stopped to exchange a few words with him.

"Well, you got something at last," said the boy. "It is not bricks, I
can swear to that."

"No, sir, it is not," said Julian. "Lift it. It contains papers of
some kind."

"Why don't you open it, and let us see what is in it?"

"I won't do that, either. I am not going to have the whole party
laughing at me the way they served that man a little while ago. Come
up to my room when Jack comes home, and then I will open it."

"I would not be in your boots for a good deal when Jack sees that
box," said the boy, hurrying away. "He says you have no business to
spend the small earnings you get on such gimcracks as 'old horse.'"

"I don't care," said Julian, settling the box under his arm and going
away in the opposite direction. "I've got the box, and if Jack does
not want to see what is in it, he need not look."

Julian broke into a run,--he knew he had no business to spend as much
time in that express office as he had done,--and in a few minutes
reached the headquarters of the Western Union Telegraph Company, in
whose employ he was. He laid down his book of receipts for the
dispatches he had delivered, then picked up his box again and stowed
it away under the counter, where he was sure it would be out of
everybody's way.

"I don't care," Julian repeated to himself, when he recalled what his
older companion, Jack Shelden, would have to say to him when he found
that he had been investing in "old horse." "I don't know that I expect
to make anything out of it, but somehow or other I can't resist my
curiosity to know what is in those bundles. When you can get the
packages for little or nothing, where's the harm? But that is no way
to save my money. I will never go near that express office again."

With this good resolution, Julian took his seat among the other boys
and waited in silence for the operator to call upon him to deliver a
dispatch. It came at last, and during the rest of the afternoon Julian
was kept busy. When six o'clock came he put his box under his arm and
started for home. His duties were done for that day.

The place that Julian called home was a long way from the office, for,
being a poor boy, he was obliged to room where he could get it as
cheaply as possible. He passed along several streets, turned numerous
corners, and finally sprang up the stairs in a sorry-looking house
which seemed almost ready to tumble down, and when he reached the top
he found the door of his room open. There he met his chum, who had
already returned from his work, going about his preparations for
supper, and whistling as though he felt at peace with himself and all
the world.

"Halloo!" he exclaimed, as Julian came in. "What's the news to-day?
Well, there. If you haven't been to that old express office again!"

These two boys were orphans--or at least Jack was. Julian had a
stepfather who, when his mother died, told the boy that he could not
support him any longer, and that he must look out for himself. He no
doubt expected that the boy would find himself in the poorhouse before
he had been long out of his care; but Julian was not that sort of a
fellow. He wandered aimlessly about the streets, looking for something
to do, sleeping in dry-goods boxes or on a plank in some lumber-yard;
and one morning, while passing along the street, wondering where he
was going to get something to eat, he saw a scene that thrilled him
with excitement. A span of horses was running away, and a telegraph
operator--Julian knew that he was an operator from the uniform he
wore--in making an attempt to stop them, lost his footing and fell on
the ground right in front of the frantic team. Julian was nearer to
him than anybody else, and acting upon the impulse of the moment, but
scarcely knowing why he did so, he dashed forward, seized the young
man by the shoulders, and pulled him out of the way. It was all done
in an instant, and Julian shuddered when he thought of what he had
done.

"Thank you, my lad," said the man, when he got up, brushed the dust
from his clothes, and looked after the flying horses. "You saved my
life, but you couldn't save the man in the buggy. Now, what can I give
you?"

"I don't want anything, sir," said Julian. The man was neatly dressed,
and looked as though he had some money, and Julian had more than half
a mind to ask him for enough with which to get some breakfast. But he
concluded that he would not do it; he would look farther, and he was
sure that he could get something to do, such as sweeping out a store,
and earn some breakfast in that way.

"You don't want anything?" exclaimed the man. "Well, you are the
luckiest fellow I ever saw!"

The man now turned and gave Julian a good looking over. It was not
necessary that he should ask any questions, for poverty was written
all over him.

