CHAPTER XIII.

MR. WHYLAND’S STORY.

“Have you any money?” gasped Gus.

“No,” returned Oliver; and he added, “I have been robbed! I had nearly two dollars in change when I left the steamer.”

“Then I am luckier than you, for I remember now that I left my purse in my valise. What are we to do?”

“I don’t know,” returned Oliver blankly. “I’ll bet I was robbed down in that crowd at the wharf.”

“Most likely.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t have more with me. I suppose I’ll never see that money again.”

“You’re right. To get it back would probably be more bother than it is worth. Still, I would tell the captain when we get back.”

“I certainly shall. In the meanwhile how are we to pay for our meal here?”

“I suppose we had better not eat it. Let us tell the waiter what has happened.”

In a moment more the Frenchman who had taken their order appeared, his tray piled high with dishes. Gus told their story, and motioned as if to go away. Evidently the man did not understand the stout youth, for his face grew dark.

“You have ordered the meal; you must pay for it,” he said in French.

Of course Gus did not understand him, and only shook his head. This made the man angry, and he called the proprietor, and the two talked to both boys in a high pitch of voice. Oliver turned his pockets inside out and Gus did the same, but even this had no effect save to make the proprietor of the place grow pale with passion.

“It’s no use,” cried Oliver. “They think we are only trying to fool them, that we never intended to take dinner here. What in the world shall we do?”

“I don’t know.” Gus gave a gasp. “I wonder if they will dare to have us arrested?”

“Arrested? Oh, I trust not!” Oliver looked about him in deep perplexity; “but I cannot imagine what is best to do.”

At that instant the boy’s gaze was turned towards the door, and he was overjoyed to see Mr. Whyland enter. Breaking from the group, he ran up to him.

“Oh, Mr. Whyland, how glad I am that you came in!” he exclaimed. “My friend and I have got into an awful muss.”

“Is that so? What is the trouble?”

As briefly as he could Oliver related the misfortune that had overtaken himself and Gus. Mr. Whyland listened attentively.

“It is too bad you have had your money stolen,” he said. “There is no use in trying to recover it. It would certainly take more time and trouble than it is worth. You must be more careful in the future.”

“I intend to be. But what shall I do here? The proprietor insists that I want to cheat him or else am fooling him.”

“I will pay the bill. I suppose travelers often impose upon him and he has grown suspicious. I will speak to him in French.”

Mr. Whyland was as good as his word. The restaurant keeper listened closely, and then began to bow and smile, and sent the waiter off for more stuff.

“I have told him that I will settle the bill and that I will have dinner with you,” explained Mr. Whyland. “He says only last week a party of three Americans came in and fooled him, and he thought you belonged to the same crowd.”

“They ought to have been ashamed of themselves,” sniffed Gus. “Might have got us into a terrible mess.”

“Yes; Americans away from home ought to be more circumspect in their actions. A few of them can give the entire nation a bad name.”

The things that Mr. Whyland had ordered were not long in coming, and then the three sat down. It was a somewhat different meal from what they had been accustomed to at home, yet not enough so to make it noticeable.

“These people are very quick to remember how Americans like things served,” said Mr. Whyland. “That is why you do not notice any great difference from a Broadway restaurant.”

The meal finished, their friend settled the bill as he had agreed. Oliver and Gus thanked him, and the former promised to pay back their share as soon as the steamer was reached.

“There is no need to trouble yourself. It was but fifty cents――twenty-five apiece,” said Mr. Whyland. “What were you young men doing? taking a look around?”

“Yes,” replied Oliver; “but there doesn’t seem to be much to see.”

“You are right; Aspinwall is not a very attractive city――that is, by comparison with what we have left. It is almost too unhealthy to thrive.”

On the way back to the steamer the three became even better acquainted than before. The gentleman asked where the two boys were bound, and stepped back in astonishment when Oliver, in a burst of confidence, told him that, while Gus was off merely for a trip, he himself was in quest of a hidden mine in California.

“Surely, surely you are joking!” gasped Mr. Whyland.

“No, sir; I am telling the truth,” affirmed Oliver. “I would not tell you at all, but you have been so kind to me.”

“And may I ask where this mine is situated――in what direction?”

“It is somewhere on the Mokelumne River.”

“And is it called the Aurora Mine?” continued Mr. Whyland with intense interest.

“It is!” cried Oliver. “But how did you know the name?”

“I am looking for the same mine myself.”

“You!”

“Exactly. Do you know the owner of the claim?”

“My father owns the claim,” replied Oliver decidedly.

“But Colonel Mendix”――

“Do you know that man?” asked Oliver quickly.

“Quite well, although I have not seen him for two years. He sold me a quarter interest in the mine for ten thousand dollars, and then he disappeared.”

“My father gave him a quarter interest to open up the mine for him. That must be the interest he sold you. You say you have not seen Colonel Mendix for two years; I saw him in New York the day before we sailed.”

“Is it possible?”

“I tried to meet him to have a talk with him; but before I could do so he took the train for the West.”

Mr. Whyland was astonished over what Oliver had to say. He asked the boy to tell his story, and as Oliver could see no harm in so doing, he complied.

“From what you say we are undoubtedly on the same errand,” remarked Mr. Whyland when he had finished. “You are searching for your father’s share, and I am searching for the share given to Colonel Mendix, which that individual transferred to me. It is most fortunate that we met. If you have no objection we will work together.”

“I shall be happy to do so, Mr. Whyland. You are a man, and a man can, as a rule, do more than a boy.”

“But I take you to be a remarkably bright boy,” laughed the gentleman. “I am sure we will get along famously together. I have not much to tell, excepting that I met Colonel Mendix in Boston, where he was introduced to me by James Barr, the surveyor you have mentioned. By Mr. Barr’s advice I invested in the mine. I waited for a long time to hear from the two, but never did. Other business claimed my attention. But now I am free to hunt the matter up, and I intend to do so. The amount at stake is not a large one to me; but still I wish to learn positively whether I have been swindled or not.”

“The amount is a good deal to my father,” said Oliver. “He has lost all of his other property, and this is his last hope.”

“Then I trust that for his sake as well as for my own the mine proves of value.”

“You’ve got to find it first,” put in Gus. “Remember the old saying about counting chickens before they are hatched.”

“I would say, don’t count the eggs before they are found,” laughed Mr. Whyland. “But we will trust for the best.”

The three talked over the situation for a long time. Oliver was glad that he had run across Mr. Whyland. It would undoubtedly lighten his task to a great degree. The gentleman was experienced and rich, and that would count for a good deal in what was to come.

The remainder of the day passed quickly. In the evening they went aboard of the steamer for the last time. All slept soundly, and were up at a seasonable hour.

“What an odd little railroad!” remarked Gus, as they boarded the train in the morning. “Only a single track.”

“It is only about forty-eight miles long,” said Mr. Whyland, “but it cost an enormous sum of money to build.”

Soon there was a tremendous jerk, and they were off on the trip across the isthmus. Oliver looked out of the window at the marshy ground, and the rank pools of stagnant water.

Suddenly they came to a sharp stop. What was up now?