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DAVE PORTER IN THE GOLD FIELDS

"Say, but wouldn't it be grand if we could locate that lost mine!" cried Phil, enthusiastically.

"Well, we'll have a try at it," returned Dave.

At last came the time for Dave to leave. Some of the others had already gone. Roger drove his chum down to the railroad station in the run-about. The two were alone. Dave noticed that the senator's son seemed unusually thoughtful.

"What's up, Roger?" he asked, at last. "You don't seem quite like yourself."

"Oh, I don't know that I ought to say anything, Dave," was the hesitating answer.

"If there is anything I can do——"

"No, it isn't that." Roger gave a deep sigh. "I wish we could locate that mine!" he murmured.

"So you were thinking about that? Well, we may have luck. Let us hope so," and Dave smiled.

"I might as well tell you how it is," continued Roger, as he drove up to the little railroad station. He looked around, to make sure that no outsiders were listening. "You know father comes up for re-election this fall."

"Oh, does his term as senator run out?"

"Yes. Well, there is a movement on foot to put somebody else in his place. If they do that—well, he'll be out, that's all."

"What will he do then?"