What are you going to look for then?"
"A job. I heard they wanted drivers for the ore carts at the stamp mills, and I thought I might fill the bill."
"I guess you could, if the places aren't all taken. But, why don't you try mining?"
"I don't believe I'm old enough."
"Oh, yes, you are. I came to California, 'way back in '49, when I was only a boy, and I've been mining ever since."
"My father was a miner," said Fred.
"Was he? What's his name?"
"What! Norman Stanley, who used to work in the Eagle's Claw mine?"
"Yes," replied the boy, who had often heard his father speak of the mine mentioned.
"Well, well! I know him like a brother. Just tell him you met old Bill Gardner, and he'll remember me all right."
"And I'll speak a good word for you when we get to the new diggings," went on the old man. "I know every miner in these parts worth knowing. G'lang there, Kangaroo."
"I thought you said the don