The Saga of Henry Plummer Book 1 by Sven Skaar (PH 3-1) (1959) (97 pages)

Didn't Forget Find Thomas Findley had never forgotten the lumps of gold he had ‘found on his campsite above (Wolf Creek: And finding it there had continued to puzzle him ever since. There must. surely be more to it than a mere accidental stumbling onto a bunch: of gold strewn among a litter of . rusty-white rocks. Some one --, something had placed them there, —but what? he had gone back to the hill to; examine it. He even worked each way from his original discovery, shoveling away the top soil; yet, all he found was a: broad, solid bank of the same _ rusty-white stone slicing through the granite; not a speck of gold! He could not understand this riddle-it worried him. But as his time was too valuable to squander on pick and shovel, he went back did understand. McKnight’s Find . One day as he rode up Boston . Ravine on’ a gold-buying trip, a man he knew: as George Mc: Knight, a wild, redheaded Cor-. nishman, came tumbling down the ravine, waving his hat and. crying that he had discovered) the Lode, the very Mother-Lode; of Gold itself. , In an instant, the new saloon in the Ravine was crowded by miners clamoring to hear his’ story. Findley was among them.: ‘From his pockets, McKnight’ poured onto the bar-top chunks, of rusty-white rocks streaked! ‘heavily with gold. “It's from the Mother-Lode,” jhe panted, “a gangue that cros-' ‘ses the hill by my cabin or a jvein of gold bearing quartz if ,you like; it dips to the bowels ‘of the earth drinking the gold from a melting pot down there!” A man snickered. “Is the Old Geen the cloven hoofs pourin’ Another cried, “Better watch out, George. If he gets you by that red beard of:yours he'll k you as his helper,” sy Several times since his return, , to camp and the enterprises he] The room rocked with laughter. “Shut up, you fools,” called, Thomas Findley. “‘I want to hear what McKnight has to say. We might learn, something of value ‘here today -Bar-keep, set up if a quartz gold gangue. Since a the drinks.” .: Tells His Story ; McKnight tipped his glass slowly, deliberately -wiped his bushy red beard with the back of his hand and looked at the men with excited, glittering eyes. When he spoke, the words came glibly, assuredly, in the rhythmic, pleasint staccato of Cornwall. “T know what I have,” he said. “Ive found the rich outcropping ‘jttle boy, Ive worked the tin and soal mines of England, following ye dips of ore-bearing. veins. The deeper we blasted, the richer the ore. “Ive mined in the Almaden quick-silver mines of old Spain, and in the New Almaden of California. It is always the same. Ore is, first found where the vel \ i breaks to the surface, and then . yeu follow it downwards. It’s such an outcropping that I've. discovered today. Ive “found my Golden Hill!”’ i . Again McKnight tipped his glass slowly, as a man does who knows ‘what he is about. Then he wiped his mouth. with the back of his. vind and stalked from the salon. The men were now looking at ‘indley, ready to condemn if he Jid and ready, to;storm the hills in search of other quartz veins should he give gredibility to Me‘“night’s fantastic story. Drove Own. Stakes Bul Thomas Findley said nothing. He elhowed his. way through]: the gaping men and out into the! open. He did not stop until he reached his old campsite. Aloce} the band of rusty-white rock, he dvove his claiming stakes. He drove them securely, in both ilivections from. the litter of brok-. en ‘rocks which he now knew ‘was the out-cropping of a gold vein. Not for one moment did he doubt McKnight’s theory. ' t oy

Didn't Forget Find Thomas Findley had never forgotten the lumps of gold he had ‘found on his campsite above (Wolf Creek: And finding it there had continued to puzzle him ever since. There must. surely be more to it than a mere accidental stumbling onto a bunch: of gold strewn among a litter of . rusty-white rocks. Some one --, something had placed them there, —but what? he had gone back to the hill to; examine it. He even worked each way from his original discovery, shoveling away the top soil; yet, all he found was a: broad, solid bank of the same _ rusty-white stone slicing through the granite; not a speck of gold! He could not understand this riddle-it worried him. But as his time was too valuable to squander on pick and shovel, he went back did understand. McKnight’s Find . One day as he rode up Boston . Ravine on’ a gold-buying trip, a man he knew: as George Mc: Knight, a wild, redheaded Cor-. nishman, came tumbling down the ravine, waving his hat and. crying that he had discovered) the Lode, the very Mother-Lode; of Gold itself. , In an instant, the new saloon in the Ravine was crowded by miners clamoring to hear his’ story. Findley was among them.: ‘From his pockets, McKnight’ poured onto the bar-top chunks, of rusty-white rocks streaked! ‘heavily with gold. “It's from the Mother-Lode,” jhe panted, “a gangue that cros-' ‘ses the hill by my cabin or a jvein of gold bearing quartz if ,you like; it dips to the bowels ‘of the earth drinking the gold from a melting pot down there!” A man snickered. “Is the Old Geen the cloven hoofs pourin’ Another cried, “Better watch out, George. If he gets you by that red beard of:yours he'll k you as his helper,” sy Several times since his return, , to camp and the enterprises he] The room rocked with laughter. “Shut up, you fools,” called,

Thomas Findley. “‘I want to hear what McKnight has to say. We might learn, something of value ‘here today -Bar-keep, set up if a quartz gold gangue. Since a the drinks.” .: Tells His Story ; McKnight tipped his glass slowly, deliberately -wiped his bushy red beard with the back of his hand and looked at the men with excited, glittering eyes. When he spoke, the words came glibly, assuredly, in the rhythmic, pleasint staccato of Cornwall. “T know what I have,” he said. “Ive found the rich outcropping ‘jttle boy, Ive worked the tin and soal mines of England, following ye dips of ore-bearing. veins. The deeper we blasted, the richer the ore. “Ive mined in the Almaden quick-silver mines of old Spain, and in the New Almaden of California. It is always the same. Ore is, first found where the vel \ i breaks to the surface, and then . yeu follow it downwards. It’s such an outcropping that I've. discovered today. Ive “found my Golden Hill!”’ i . Again McKnight tipped his glass slowly, as a man does who knows ‘what he is about. Then he wiped his mouth. with the back of his. vind and stalked from the salon. The men were now looking at ‘indley, ready to condemn if he Jid and ready, to;storm the hills in search of other quartz veins should he give gredibility to Me‘“night’s fantastic story. Drove Own. Stakes Bul Thomas Findley said nothing. He elhowed his. way through]: the gaping men and out into the! open. He did not stop until he reached his old campsite. Aloce} the band of rusty-white rock, he dvove his claiming stakes. He drove them securely, in both ilivections from. the litter of brok-. en ‘rocks which he now knew ‘was the out-cropping of a gold vein. Not for one moment did he doubt McKnight’s theory. ' t oy