“He’s a splendid fellow. I wish he were going with us.”
“So do I,” said Hope-Jones. “He would be a jolly companion.”
“What’s the matter,” the young men asked.
“I happened to think of something. Cisneros is a miner.”
“He has every appearance of being so. What are you driving at?”
“And he told us that his silver mines were not paying very well,” persisted the boy.
“If we find gold we’re going to find a great deal, are we not?”
“So old Huayno said. But why are you wasting time standing here and asking all these questions?”
“Yes, and take him in on shares. One quarter for each.”
Ferguson slapped his hand on his thigh. “Bully for you, Harvey! That’s a splendid idea. I wonder it never came to me.”
“It never entered my mind until the last time he waved his hat,” said the boy, looking pleased at the approval he had been given, for Hope-Jones had spoken as warmly in favor of the project as had the American; and the three at once commenced to retrace their footsteps. They found their erstwhile host on the veranda of his home, bidding adieu to his wife, for he had planned a trip to a neighboring village.
“Take him one side and explain, Ferguson,” whispered Hope-Jones.
“I am delighted that you are returning,” he called out when they appeared. “Thought you would rest a little longer?”
“No, señor; thank you. We wished to consult with you regarding a certain matter. Will you go for a short walk with me?” asked the elder American.
“With pleasure,” and he led the way back of the house, to the arbor, while Hope-Jones and Harvey remained on the veranda with the señora, who looked at them curiously, wondering of course what it meant, but she politely refrained from asking questions.
The two were absent about a half hour, and when they came in sight again Ferguson nodded his head, as if to say, “He will go,” and the señor grasped each of them by a hand.
“Pardon me, but I must immediately tell my wife of this extraordinary news,” said he. “You need have no fear. My secrets are safe with her,” and the two passed into the house.
“I should say so. You should have seen his eyes glisten. He believes that every word old Huayno uttered is true; says he’s heard legends of this sort, but no one was ever able to locate the mine. All stories agree, however, that it is beyond the cinchona trees.”