"I'm told you can tell me where to find Richard Dewey, colonel," said
Bradley, employing another title of the mayor.
"I can't just say where he is," said the mayor; "but I can tell you
where he meant to go."
"That will help us."
"You don't mean him any harm?" asked the mayor quickly.
"Far from it. We have the best news for him."
"Because Dick Dewey is a friend of mine, and I wouldn't bring him
into trouble for the richest claim in Californy."
"That's where we agree, colonel. The fact is, there's a young lady
in 'Frisco who has come out on purpose to find him-his sweetheart,
and an heiress, at that. Me and Ben have agreed to find him for her,
and that's the long and short of it."
"Then I'm with you, Bradley. I've seen the girl's picture. Dick
showed it to me one day, and she does credit to his taste. He's had
bad luck at the mines; but-"
"That won't matter when them two meet," said Bradley. "She's better
than any claim he can find this side the mountains."
Bradley and our young hero spent the remainder of the day and the
night at Murphy's, hospitably provided for by the judge and the
mayor, and Ben listened with avidity to the stories of the miners
and their varying luck.
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