E-text prepared by Jim Ludwig
or, Seeking Fortune on the Turn of a Pick
By
CHAPTERS
I. Alf and His "Makings of Manhood"
II. Trouble Brews on the Trail
III. Jim's Army Appears
IV. Sold Out for a Toy Bale!
V. No Need to Work for Pennies
VI. Tom Catches the "Nevada Fever"
VII. Ready to Handle the Pick
VIII. Jim Ferrers, Partner
IX. Harry Does Some Pitching
X. Tom's Fighting Blood Surges
XI. Planning a New Move
XII. New Owners File a Claim
XIII. Jim Tries the New Way
XIV. The Cook Learns a Lesson
XV. Why Reade Wanted Gold
XVI. The Man Who Made Good
XVII. The Miners Who "Stuck"
XVIII. The Goddess of Fortune Smiles Wistfully
XIX. Harry's Signal of Distress
XX. Tom Turns Doctor
XXI. The Wolves on the Snow Crust
XXII. Dolph Gage Fires His Shot
XXIII. Tom Begins to Doubt His Eyes
XXIV. Conclusion
"Say, got the makings?"
"Eh?" inquired Tom Reade, glancing up in mild astonishment.
"Got the makings?" persisted the thin dough-faced lad of fourteenwho had come into the tent.
"I believe we have the makings for supper, if you mean that you'rehungry," Tom rejoined. "But you've just had your dinner."
"I know I have," replied the youngster. "That's why I want mysmoke."
"Your wha-a-at?" insisted Tom. By this time light had begun todawn upon the bronzed, athletic young engineer, but he preferredto pretend ignorance a little while longer.
"Say, don't you carry the makings?" demanded the boy.
"You'll have to be more explicit," Tom retorted. "Just what areyou up to? What do you want anyway?"
"I want the makings for a cigarette," replied the boy, shiftinguneasily to the other foot. "You said you'd pay me five dollarsa month and find me in everything, didn't you?"
"Yes; everything that is necessary to living," Reade assented.
"Well, cigarettes are necessary to me," continued the boy.
"They are?" asked Tom, opening his eyes wider. "Why, how doesthat happen?"
"Just because I am a smoker," returned the boy, with a sicklygrin.
"You are?" gasped Tom. "At your age? Why, you little wretch!"
"That's all right, but please don't go on stringing me," pleadedthe younger American. "Just pass over the papers and the tobaccopouch, and I'll get busy. I'm suffering for a smoke."
"Then you have my heartfelt sympathy," Tom assured him. "I hateto see any boy with that low-down habit, and I'm glad that I'mnot in position to be able to encourage you in it. How long haveyou been smoking, Drew?"
Alf Drew shifted once more on his feet.
"'Bouter year," he answered.
"You began poisoning yourself at the age of thirteen, and you'velived a whole year? No; I won't say 'lived,' but you've keptpretty nearly alive. There isn't much real life in you, Drew,I'll be bound. Come here."
"Do I get the makings?" whined the boy.
"Come here!"
Drew advanced, rather timidly, into the tent.
"Don't shrink so,"