Jem dropped his gold pan next to the creek. It clattered against the rocks. Panning for gold could wait.
Jem wanted to greet his friend. “Howdy, Strike!” he called.
“Howdy!” Strike tipped a bucket into the rocker box. He grabbed the handle and yanked.
Sand and gravel rattled down the box. Water swished.
A loud hee-haw added to the racket.
Would Strike’s grumpy donkey let Jem pet him today? Or would it bite him?
Jem was never sure.
Ellie threw her arms around the donkey’s neck. “I missed you, Canary.”
Hee-haw! Canary never bit or kicked Ellie.
Jem stayed away from the donkey. He ran past Strike’s small tent and headed for the rocker box.
Pa followed a few steps behind Jem. “Did you have a good trip?”
Strike nodded and kept rocking the box.
Jem skidded to a stop next to the old prospector. “Where did you go?” he asked. “Did you strike it rich?”
Ellie ran up. “How much gold did you find?”
“Did you find a big nugget?” Jem asked.
Pa shook his head. “You two know better than to pester Strike with questions.”
Oops! Jem had forgotten rule three. Mind your own business in a gold camp.
Strike grinned at Jem and Ellie. “I didn’t strike gold this time, young’uns. But I did find a different kind of nugget.”
The miner jabbed a thumb behind his shoulder. “Go take a look.”
Jem wrinkled his forehead. A different kind of nugget? Gold was gold. How could gold nuggets be different?
Unless Strike meant he’d found fool’s gold.
“Aw, Strike!” Jem blew out a breath.
Would their miner friend tease them about a worthless chunk of fool’s gold?
“Go on.” Strike winked and pointed.
Jem turned around. A dirty-gold something lay under a tall pine tree.
He squinted. “What is it?”
The something moved.
Jem’s eyes opened wide. It was an animal. He took off running for it.
Ellie got there first. She stopped under the tree. “It’s a dog!”
She squealed and raced back to Pa. “Can we keep him, Pa? Can we? Please?”
Jem let Ellie do all the talking. He sat down next to the heap of scruffy fur, sticky burrs, and dried mud. “You’re sure messy.”
At Jem’s voice, the dog lifted his head. His tail thumped. He rose and whined a greeting.
Jem scratched behind the floppy ears. “I bet under all the mud and weeds, you’re golden.”
The dog nosed Jem’s hand and licked it.
A thrill went through Jem. I want this dog.
He didn’t say those words out loud.
A dog was not like a pet raccoon or a wild turkey chick. The animals Jem and Ellie found could take care of themselves.
Jem peeked over his shoulder. Ellie had grabbed Pa’s hand and was dragging him closer.
Strike followed. A big grin showed through his raggedy beard.
Pa was not smiling. He stepped under the tree and looked down at Jem and the dog. He didn’t say a word.
He didn’t have to. Ellie was still talking.
“I would brush him and pick out every burr, Pa. He could sleep next to me. He would keep me warm when it rains. And then—”
“Ellianna.”
Ellie stopped talking. She looked at Jem. Her light-brown eyes were shining.
Ellie wanted the dog too.
Strike laughed. “That little gal of yours can talk the hind leg off a mule.”
“Her mother and I are working on that,” Pa said, ruffling Ellie’s hair.
Ellie ducked her head.
“You young’uns want to hear how I found this critter?”
“I do,” Jem said. He petted the dog.
Ellie nodded but didn’t look up.
Strike squatted beside Jem. “I was prospecting way over by Jasper Creek. The third night out, this half-grown dog trotted into camp. He musta heard Canary.”
Jem grinned. The whole mountainside could hear Strike’s donkey when he hee-hawed. “Where did he come from?”
“I got no idea.” Strike picked a burr from the dog’s fur. “It looked like he’d been on his own for quite a spell. I tossed him some jerky-meat, and now I can’t get rid of him.”
The miner shrugged. “Hungriest critter I ever saw. I couldn’t leave him behind to starve.”
“Poor thing,” Ellie whispered, stroking the dog’s head.
Jem sank his fingers into the dirty, matted fur. He could feel the dog’s sharp ribs.
Poor thing is right!
Jem wanted this dog more than anything in the world.
More than all the blueberry pie he could eat. More than all the gold in his pouch.
He sighed. Mama and Pa would not let him keep a hungry dog. Not when Jem and Ellie were hungry sometimes.
It would do no good to ask.
