George dropped his and almost dropped the pan. He and Terry stopped short in their dance, Shep , they all stared; stared into the of a double-barrel shot-gun projecting over the top of a big not fifteen steps at one side, and also into the eyes of a man and over the sight. He was bare-headed and tow-headed.  
He slowly arose, with shot-gun leveled, and proved to be a pudgy fat man in dirty shirt and faded blue with bib and ; regular barnyard overalls.
 
", the crazy Dutchman!" George.
 
"Dot is one lie," corrected the man, . "Joost like American boys, who haf no respect. You come into my to steal mein gold und you call me 'crazy' und a 'Dootchmann,' und for dot I haf a mind to blow off your heads off. Ja!" In his anger he with a stronger German accent than ever. " you want, anyhow? Where you from?"
 
"Oh—I know you!" exclaimed Terry, gladly. "Sure I do. And you know me. You're the Lightning Express. Remember, you sold us your sacks. I thought you'd gone home. What are you doing in here?"
 
Now the German and stared. He slowly lowered his gun, and grinned widely.
 
"Ja, ja. Sure! You are one of dose Pike's Peak Limited boys. Ja, ja! You wass driving a an' a boof'lo. Ja, ja! Well, well! An' where is dot partner—dot nice young man? And who is dis odder boy? An' what you doing in my gulch—say!"
 
"We didn't know it was your gulch. This boy is George Stanton. He's my partner, too. My other partner's down at Denver. We've been over in the Gregory diggin's."
 
"An' are you alone? Dere is more of you?" demanded the German, suspiciously.
 
"No, we're alone," assured Terry.
 
"Well, well. Is dot so? you needn't be afraid. I would not harm goot boys. Nein, nein." Now in fine humor, he forward to shake hands.
 
"We're not afraid," replied Terry.
 
"I should say not," George. "Your gun wasn't cocked, and we could have ducked. You'd have had to fight the two of us at once, besides the dog. That's a powerful dog. He's licked an Injun."
 
"Is dot so?" repeated the German, eying Shep. "I stick my one foot in his mouth an' kick him mit de odder. But no, no. Fighting is not goot. I only fight to protect my gulch. Come on down; come on down to where I lif, an' we haf supper."
 
"This is your dust, isn't it?" George, the pan. "It's out of that dirt. Do you own all the gulch?"
 
"Ja; my gulch. But nefer mind. You keep what you find. I haf plenty, plenty. Come on down now an' I show you somet'ings. You odder boy wash your pan. Den we all go."
 
Terry delayed not in washing his panful while he had the permission. It yielded as much yellow as had George's! Whew! They had struck rich pay-dirt, at last, and—shucks! It belonged to somebody else. However——
 
"Keep it, keep it," bade the German, with grand gesture. "It is not worth my bodder. I haf plenty. I gif you so much, but I do not want you to steal it."
 
So they carefully scraped the treasure into George's new buckskin sack already open. "We'll divvy," proposed George, "but let me carry it, will you?"—and accompanied the German down the main gulch.
 
"Ja," he explained, to Terry, "I did start myself back an' I sell you an' dot odder partner my sacks an' my tools an' my sauerkraut. An' den, when dose stages begin to pass me, an' peoples begin to come, I t'ink maybe I was one fool again, so I turn 'round."
 
"How did you get in here, though?" asked Terry. "Are you the first? Did anybody else come with you?"
 
"Ja, I am the first. No, nobody else come—joost me an' my family an' my an' my oxen. People said 'the mountains, the mountains, the gold is not at Cherry , it is in the mountains'; so we go into de mountains, an' we climb up an' we climb down, an' when we get to where dere is plenty gold, we stop. Dose fellers in dot odder gulch dey come later, but I pay no attention to dem, except when one is in my gulch an' den I drive him out."
 
How the Lightning Express ever had managed to achieve all that "climbing up" and "climbing down" until it finally arrived here in this remote spot, Terry could not figure out—and the German seemed not to know, himself. He certainly had earned his luck. He had spoken truly, too, for now the gulch widened, and there, before, was his headquarters—a homelike camp, with the two oxen grazing, and the wagon whose torn top still displayed the legend "Litening Express," and a bough-roofed dug-out, and a clothes-line with washing waving from it, and his family around the cook stove set under a tree.
 
"I find my cook stove an' pick him up," he announced. "Ja, we haf lots to eat, but no sauerkraut. Only deers an' boof'lo an' chickens an' fishes."
 
The menu sounded very , the Mrs. German and all the six girls, even the youngest, smiled welcome, and the two guests were disposed to stay for the promised supper. But first their host, who seemed good-natured and , mysteriously them aside; led them to the wagon.
 
"Now I show you somet'ings," he said. "Let's get in mit us." He clambered in under the . They followed.
 
Evidently the wagon was being used as a sleeping place, for the feather tick and blankets were spread, and two red-flannel night-caps hung against the frame-work. The German turned back the blankets and tick part way and exposed several fat gunny sacks wedged in amidst other stuff, all of which formed a floor.
 
"Dere!" he . "Isn't it? Ja! I told you once I fill my sacks. Now I do so."
 
"What's in 'em?" George.
 
"Gold. My gold.&............