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"Certainly, sir; we are in no hurry. However, until we are definitely engaged we do not bind ourselves to be ready for your work."
"Where is your camp?" said Mr. Dunlop.
Jim Ferrers explained the easiest way of reaching the camp in a motor car.
"And I'd advise you to come to our camp, too," Tom added. "You'll be safer there than here."
"But we would; expose you to danger, too," Mr. Dunlop objected.
"We're rather used to danger," smiled Tom placidly. "In fact, just a little of danger makes us feel that we're getting more enjoyment out of life."
"Do you think it a good plan to take up the invitation of these gentlemen, Timmins?" inquired Mr. Dunlop.
"It's the safest thing you can do, sir," answered Joe Timmins.
"We'll start back, now," proposed Tom. "If you don't drive too fast you'll give us a chance to reach our camp in time to welcome you."
"You start now, and we'll start within ten minutes," proposed Mr. Dunlop.
This being agreed to, Tom, Harry and Ferrers began the task of climbing the cliff path. At last they reached the top, then started at long strides toward camp, Ferrers's horse having been surrendered by Harry to Dave Hill.
"Who knows," laughed Tom, "we may become mining engineers here in Nevada"
"Small chance of it," Harry rejoined. "In opinion Mr. Dunlop is a good enough fellow, but he's accustomed to making all the money himself. He'd want us at about a hundred dollars a month apiece."
"He can want, then," Tom retorted. "Yet, somehow, I've an idea That Mr. Dunlop will turn to be generous if he decides that we're the engineers for him."
For some minutes the trio tramped on silently, in Indian file, Ferrers leading.
"h.e.l.lo, Alf!" bellowed Tom through the woods, as they neared their camp site. No answer came.
"Where did you leave the little fellow, Jim?" inquired Reade.
"I didn't notice which way he went, sir," returned the guide.
"He looked plumb scared, and I reckon he ducked into cover somewhere.
Maybe he headed for Dugout City and hasn't stopped running yet."
Then a turn of the path under the trees brought them in sight of their camp.
Rather, where the camp had been. Jim Ferrers rubbed his eyes for an instant, for the tents had been spirited away as though by magic.
Nor were the cots to be seen. Blankets lay strewn about on the ground. A quarter the camp's food supplies was still left, and that was all.
"Is it magic, Jim?" gasped puzzled Tom Reade.
"No, sir; just plain stealing," Ferrers responded grimly.
"Then who-----"
"Dolph Gage's crew, I'll be bound, sir. They don't want you two hanging around in this country, and they want me a heap sight less. But maybe we'll show 'em! The trail can't be hard to find.
We'll have to start at once."
"After we've seen and spoken to Mr. Dunlop," Tom amended. "We can't run off without explanation to the guests that we have invited to share the camp that we thought had."
Barely a hundred yards away four men lay on their stomachs, heads concealed behind a low fringe of brush under which the muzzles of their rifles peeped.
"Remember," whispered Dolph Gage faintly, "all of you fire your first shot into Jim Ferrers. After that we'll take charge of the youngsters! Get a close bead on Jim. Ready!"
CHAPTER IV
SOLD OUT FOR A TOY BALE!
Jim Ferrers had stated a plain truth when he remarked that Nevada men did not often waste ammunition.
With four rifles aimed at him, at that short, point-blank range, it would seem that Jim's last moment had come.
Yet at that instant the sound of an approaching motor ear was heard.
Then the car, moving at twelve miles an hour mounted the crest at a point less than seventy yards from where the four ambushed men lay.
Joe Timmins caught sight of them.
"Take the wheel!" muttered Timmins, forcing Parkinson's nearer hand to the wheel.
In an instant Joe was upon his feet, drawing his revolver. He fired at the men in ambush, but a lurch of the car on the rough ground destroyed his aim.
"Dolph Gage and his rascals at the ridge," bellowed Joe, in a fog-horn voice, pointing.
Jim Ferrers dropped to the ground, hugging it flat. Harry followed suit. Tom Reade hesitated an instant, then away he flew at a dead run.
Close to a tree Tom stopped, thrusting right hand in among the bushes. Up and down his hand moved.
"Shoot and duck!" snarled Dolph, in a pa.s.sion because of their having been discovered.
Boom!
Over by the ridge where Gage and his fellow rascals lay it looked as though a volcano had started in operation on a small scale.
Fragments of rock, clouds of dirt, splinters and bits of brush shot up in the air.
Following the report came a volley of terrific yells from Dolph and his fellows.
They had been on the instant of firing when the big explosion came. Jim Ferrers, too, was taking careful aim at the moment.
It is a law of Nature that whatever goes up debris, mixed with larger pieces of rock and clots of earth, descended on the scene of the explosion. Yet little of this flying stuff reached Dolph Gage and his companions, for they were up and running despite the mark that they thus presented to Ferrers.