"What do you think about it, Fred?" Sam asked, in a whisper.

"I don't like to yank him out, no matter what he tried to do to me."

"Nor I."

"Then why not let him stay? He'll get punishment enough by hiding here alone in the darkness with nothing to eat."

"But we shall have to give him a little grub. We can't think he's hungry when we're got plenty."

"I'll agree to whatever you say."

Sam was silent for a moment, and then turning to the kneeling boy, he asked:

"Could you find your way out of here?"

"I might if I had a lamp; but the oil has all been burned in mine."

"How long do you count on staying?"

"Jest as many days as I can."

"Well, see here, we're going off, an' leave you to take the dose in your own way; but it's on the agreement that you try to be a decent fellow after gettin' out."

"I'll promise anything, an' won't so much as say the name regulators agin."

"If it's possible, Fred an' I'll bring you some grub; but you mustn't count on it."

"Don't take any risks," Skip replied, humbly. "I can live on wind a couple of days if that villain of a Billings don't come back."

"You needn't worry about that. If he went up the drift Bill an' Joe will most likely nab him. Come, Fred, we mustn't stay any longer, or they'll think something is wrong."

As the boys turned to go Skip tried to thank them for the mercy shown; but did not make a great success at it. He had been literally trembling with fear, and now his gratitude rendered him almost incapable of speech.

"That's all right, Skip. We'll see whether you mean it or not after you get out."

"I'll be square as a brick if I ever get through with this scrape," he replied, and then as the boys turned the angle of the slope he was hidden from view in the darkness.

"I don't know as we're actin' very sensible," Sam said, slowly, when they were in the drift once more; "but it's better than draggin' the poor beggar off to be arrested."

"A good idea, Sam, and I'm sure Skip will be a decent fellow after this. We must try to get back here to-night with food and oil."

"Unless Joe and Bill keep us at work we'll have plenty of time, for—hello! Here they come now!"

The two miners could be seen in the distance, or, rather, the light of their lamps was visible, and when they were within speaking distance, Fred asked:

"Did you find him?"

"No; we've followed up the drift as far as we dared, an' are now goin' back to see if any of the day crew know these old works. Where did that slope lead to?"

"It ends about fifty yards from here."

"Didn't see anything of the villains, eh?"

"Billings isn't there, that's certain," Fred replied after a brief hesitation.

The men did not appear to notice the equivocal answer, and Bill suggested that they return to the workings without further delay.

"We'll have a guard set at the shaft, so he can't give us the slip in that way, an' if any of the boys know these drifts it won't be a long job to smoke him out."

"He may get off before we can reach the top of the slope," Fred suggested, hoping by this means to prevent the conversation from reverting to their long delay.

"Then so much the better, lad," Bill replied, in a tone of satisfaction. "All we want is to be rid of such trash, an' if he leaves town that's enough."

If at this moment either of the party had turned it would not have been difficult to distinguish even in the gloom the form of Cale Billings, as he followed ready to work further mischief, or escape as might be most convenient.

Unsuspicious of the nearness of their enemy, the little party continued on to the hole through which Fred had fallen, and as they clambered up the joists the leader of the rioters muttered:

"Don't think you can smoke me out so easy. I'll leave my mark on this mine before bein' run down, or know the reason why."

Neither Sam nor Fred gave so much as a passing thought to the man who was responsible for all the damage which had been done; they were so engrossed with the desire to aid Skip without being discovered by those who might call him to an account for his crime that all else seemed as trifles.

"I'll tell mother, and she will cook for us what may be needed," Fred whispered, after they were in the lower level walking rapidly toward the slope.

"That part of it don't trouble me so much as how we're to come back to the mine without bein' seen by some of the men," Sam replied, and, turning sharply Bill asked:

"What are you fellers chinnin' about?"

"There's no harm in talkin', eh?" and Sam assumed an air of impudence such as the men had never seen before.

"I don't reckon there is, lad; but seein' as how we've hung together so long, it wasn't strange to ask."

"I didn't mean to be too fresh, Bill," Sam replied, understanding that he had spoken in a disagreeable manner. "Fred and I were only figuring about coming back to make sure Billings didn't get into the level while you were outside."

"That part of it can be fixed easy. Joe shall go to the store while I see if anybody here knows about the old drift, and with three on guard I don't reckon he can do much mischief."

"Then you can stay with him while I run home for some provisions," Fred whispered, and during this conversation Cale Billings was clambering up the joist which led to the last level.



CHAPTER XVI

GOOD SAMARITANS

Knowing that Joe and Bill were in Mr. Wright's confidence Donovan had no hesitation about placing guards as desired, and immediately after they ascended from the slope every exit was closely watched.

"Now you boys can see we've fixed things in proper shape," Bill said, in a tone of triumph. "Do whatever you choose until to-morrow, an' Joe an' me'll attend to Mr. Billings' case."

"But he might get into the lower level by the same way we did," Sam ventured to suggest.

"There are plenty below to take care of that."

"Then there's no reason why we should come back?"

"Not unless you want to see the game played out."

"We'll run down to Fred's house, and then have a look at the place where he went through."

"Suit yourselves about that," was the careless reply, as Bill started toward the store to confer with the superintendent.

"Now is our chance," Sam whispered. "It won't take us more than ten minutes to run over to your house, and we can get back before Bill comes."

Fred started at a rapid pace, and by the time the miners had finished telling their story to Mr. Wright, Mrs. Byram knew of the interview with Skip.

"Of course I will give you some food," she said, readily. "It may prove to be the best possible thing for him that he should be so thoroughly frightened. Can you carry oil enough in a bottle?"

"As much as will be needed until to-morrow. It won't do any harm if he scrapes along on short rations for a while," Sam replied, with a laugh. "The only thing is to get him something before Joe an' Bill go back."

A generous package of food, a small quantity of oil, the whole in a paper parcel, and the good samaritans started for the slope once more, noting with satisfaction as they passed that the miners had not yet left the store.

No particular attention was paid to them as they entered the slope, and screening the package as much as possible from view, the boys went with all speed to the repentant regulator's hiding place.

So far as could be seen, the cutting through which Fred had fallen remained as when they ascended, and after letting themselves down this the task was well nigh accomplished.

Skip was most extravagant in his demonstrations of gratitude when they entered the chamber and displayed the supplies.

"It'll take me a mighty long while to straighten this thing up; but I'll do it somehow," he said, and Sam replied, roughly:

"We'll talk about that later. Jest now there's a chance others will find out where you are, for Joe and Bill have gone after men to help search for Billings."

"Then they didn't find him?"

"No."

"I reckon he has gone to Taylor's."

"That won't do him much good unless he walks out of town, for now it is known he's near by, all hands are bound to hunt him down."

"Then they'll be sure to find me."

"We'll hold on in the old drift till they get back, an' try to prevent them from coming up here by saying we've searched this slope," Fred said, after a moment's thought. "That's the only way I know of to keep the secret."

"It won't do any harm to make the attempt," Sam added. "Don't light your lamp, and keep perfectly quiet."

Skip retreated once more to the farther corner of the chamber, and the boys walked slowly down to the drift, halting a short distance from the mouth of the slope as Sam picked up a shovel.

"Here's another tool belonging to the company. It must have been thrown away by Billings or Skip when you dropped on their heads."

"Keep it to show we've been hunting; it can't be long now before the men come, and we'll need some good excuse for loafing here."

"Let's sit down till we hear them. I'm tired enough to want a rest."

Seated on the decaying timbers of the car track the boys discussed in whispers the possibility of aiding Skip to escape from his unenviable position, with never a thought of the deed with which Billings was to crown his villainous career.

The leader of the mob had immediately begun to look about for a chance to wreak his vengeance on the company, when Joe and Bill with their helpers left the level, and he was yet at the farther end of the passage when the boys returned with supplies for Skip.

Their desire to avoid attracting the attention of the workmen caused them to move noiselessly, consequently he was ignorant of the fact that they were in the mine.

It was hardly five minutes after they descended to the old drift when he came back to the cutting, and the odor of gas brought him to a stop.

"Them fools broke through after all," he said, examining the earth piled up at one end, "an' I reckon they found out it wasn't safe to work much farther on that course."

One of the shovels was standing against the side of the excavation, and with this he dug a portion of the dirt from the hole made by Bill's pick.

The foul air rushed through with such force as to nearly suffocate him; but instead of being disappointed he appeared overjoyed.

"I couldn't a' fixed things better in a week's solid work, an' I'll take the chances of gettin' out."

Enlarging the aperture by pushing the earth through between the braces while he covered his mouth and nose with his blouse, he crept back to the drift, unfastened his cap-lamp, removed the safety screen, and placed the light in the passage after raising the wick a trifle.

Just as these preparations had been completed the faint sound of the whistle could be heard from above.

"It's astonishin' what luck I'm having," he muttered. "I can get out while the day shift are leavin', an' ten minutes will be enough to fill this level so full of gas that no power can prevent an explosion."

The air was heavy with the noxious vapor as he went rapidly toward the slope up which crowds of miners were passing, and as some of the men loitered behind the others it became necessary he should hide in the drift to escape detection.

"Why don't the fools move faster," he said, in a hoarse whisper. "It can't be many seconds before the thing comes, an' there'll be no chance for me. There'd be a lynchin' sure if I should show up jest ahead of an explosion."

Big drops of perspiration stood on his brow as he realized that the trap he had set for others might close upon himself, and for an instant he resolved to run back and extinguish the lamp.

"It won't do," he said, half turning and then moving nearer the slope. "There's gas enough in the drift to choke me before I'd get ten yards. Why don't the idiots move faster!"

Only the absolute conviction that he would be lynched if caught at such a time prevented Billings from rushing out.

Each second the vapor became denser, and he wondered why the miners did not perceive it.

The catastrophe must be very near at hand, and he was exposed to the greatest danger.

When it seemed as if an hour had passed, the last man went up the slope, and he started at full speed to gain a higher level.

The incline was almost reached; half a dozen steps more and he would be partially sheltered by the jutting point of slate.

"Luck is still with me," he cried, so loud that those above must have heard him, and at that instant the earth seemed to rock to and fro; there was a flash of blinding light, and the air was filled with flying fragments.

Where had been the lower level was now an apparently solid mass of earth, coal, and slate, covering the body of him who had wreaked his vengeance upon the company.

Joe and Bill were returning from the store when the noise of the explosion was heard, and they, as well as everyone in the vicinity, knew from sad experience what had occurred.

"We're responsible for this!" Bill cried, his face paling. "The gas has burst through from the old drift."

"Thank God it came when most of the poor fellows were quittin' work," and Joe started on a run, followed by every person in the village.

At the mouth of the slope a vast crowd had gathered. Women were calling their husbands and children by name, and as each learned her loved ones were safe, shouts of joy mingled with the wailings of those whose cries remained unanswered.

Even after Mr. Wright arrived the utmost confusion prevailed. All knew it would be certain death to make a descent, while the deadly vapor was so dense, and a second explosion might be expected at any moment.

Bill and Joe stood near the mouth of the slope ready to respond to the first call for volunteers, when Mrs. Byram came up.

"Where is Fred?" she asked, with a brave attempt controlling her fears.

"He went to your house with Sam, so there's no need to worry about them."

"They were not there more than ten minutes."

"Then both are in the crowd somewhere, for they wouldn't go down the slope till we got back."

The almost distracted mother had no thought of keeping Skip's secret at such a time, and when the two miners heard her story all hope for the safety of the boys fled.

"They must have been in the old drift underneath the explodin' gas," Joe exclaimed, involuntarily.

"It isn't sure the trouble began where we think," Bill said, quickly, with a warning glance at his companion. "I've known of men who were shut in a drift for a week, an' then brought out none the worse for wear, so don't despair, Mrs. Byram."

"But why isn't something done to aid them?"

"We shall set to work the very minute it is safe to venture into the next level. Go home, an' Joe or I will bring you the first news."

"Do you think I could remain there knowing my boy is dying, or—or—dead?"

The women near by endeavored to console the sorrowing mother with words of encouragement they themselves believed to be false, and Bill whispered to his mate:

"There's a mighty slim show for the poor lads, an' it's through helpin' him as tried to murder 'em that they've been caught."

Mr. Wright was doing his utmost to ascertain how many were yet in the mine, and after a long while succeeded in learning that at least a dozen men had been overpowered while some distance up the slope.

Those who reached the surface told of a number whom they had seen fall, and some were certain one or two did not have time to gain the slope.

"Who will go with me?" the superintendent asked, as a car was made ready. "I don't want the married men to volunteer, for they are needed at home, and none of us may come back alive."

"Then why not stay here yourself?" a woman cried. "Your wife an' children need you as much as ours need their fathers."

"Because it is my duty," was the calm reply. "Now who will come? I only want two."

"Then the car is full," Bill said, as he and Joe took their places in the box-like vehicle. "We're willin' to go alone, if you'll stay behind."

"No man shall encounter dangers from which I shrink. Lower away slowly, boys," he added to those who were fastening a rope to the car, "and keep a sharp look-out for our signals."

"An' it was his house my Jim helped try to burn!" the woman who had spoken before said in a whisper.

"Make haste," Mr. Wright cried, impatiently. "Remember that every second is precious."

The miners crowded around the car to shake its brave occupants by the hand as if they were never to return, and it was absolutely necessary to push them away in order that the terrible journey might be begun.

With their safety lamps held so that the condition of the air might be ascertained at each stage of the descent, the men slowly disappeared from view, and at the mouth of the slope the crowd surged to and fro in painful suspense; but not a sound could be heard, save as some wife or mother gave vent to a sob of distress.



CHAPTER XVII

DOWN THE SLOPE

During the time that Billings was making his preparations for the last act of his life, Sam and Fred remained seated a short distance from the cut which led to Skip's hiding place.

Both were listening intently for the first sound which should betoken the coming of the miners, and the falling earth which was displaced by Billings' feet as he worked in the cutting attracted their attention.

"There's some one in the tunnel we made," Sam whispered. "Let's creep up and find out who it is."

"That won't do, for there's no chance Billings would come back if he once got out, and we should arouse suspicions."

Despite this warning Sam advanced a short distance, and on becoming convinced that the tunnel really had an occupant rejoined Fred, as he whispered:

"We'd better sneak further along. I reckon somebody is on guard up there, and we musn't be seen so far down."

He had held the shovel during this excursion, and still retained it as they walked noiselessly along the drift until arriving at the mouth of the short slope.

Here the two halted at the moment when the confined gas, ignited by the open lamp, burst its bonds, and the shock sent them headlong up the incline.

Huge masses of earth were detached on every hand, except directly in the narrow way leading to Skip's hiding place, and on scrambling to their feet a solid wall shut them out from the drift.

"What was that?" Fred cried in alarm, as he assured himself his lamp was uninjured.

"An explosion, an' we're penned in here to starve to death," Sam replied, in a trembling voice.

"Can't we dig through this bank and reach the hole in the roof?"

"There is no longer any lower level, as we knew it, and unless we could make a new drift there'd be no use working."

"But this part of the mine seems to be all right."

"Yes, unless there's another explosion I reckon we can stay here 'til—"

"'Till what?"

"We shall starve to death after a while."

This mournful conversation was interrupted by Skip, who came running down the slope with the most abject fear written on every feature of his face.

Familiar as he was with the mine he had no need to ask for the cause of the noise, and understood as well as Sam the little hope there was for life.

"Are you shut in, too?" he cried.

"We're here," Sam replied, grimly.

"An' you'd been outside if I hadn't wanted to stay rather than take a flogging."

"You're right, Skip, but this ain't the time to find fault. All three are in the same box, an' we might as well be friendly."

"Won't they try to get us out?" Fred asked, faintly.

"Nobody knows where we are," Skip replied, bitterly.

"We told mother about you, and she'll be sure to repeat it to Joe and Bill now we're in such danger."

Skip's face brightened for an instant, and then he said, in a despairing tone:

"They don't know where this place is. Billings is certain the oldest miners never heard of the drift; he thinks it was made years before the workings were opened at Farley's."

"Joe and Bill have been down here."

"Even they wouldn't know where to start in. How long will the air hold out, Sam?"

"I don't know, but there's no need of usin' it any faster than's necessary. We'll put out two of the lamps; one is enough, an' we may be mighty glad to drink the oil."

Fred was very nearly incapable of action. The knowledge that his companions had lost hope literally dazed him, and he could not even follow Sam's suggestion.

Two of the lamps were extinguished, and since Fred was the only one retaining the means of dispelling the darkness, Sam and Skip forced him on ahead as they went still further into the tunnel where the air would be more pure.

"This is the only point from which we may expect aid," Sam said, "an' seein' that we can do nothin' it's better to stay here."

"Won't Joe and Bill try to help us?" Fred asked.

"They'll try, but whether it'll be possible to do anything is another matter."

"Can't we begin to dig? We've got one shovel."

"Neither of us knows in which direction to start, an' when workin' more food would be needed, therefore, to keep alive as long as possible we'd better stay quiet."

Skip threw himself on the floor close to the end of the cutting, as if reconciled to whatever might happen, and Sam sat down beside him.

"Do you think there is any chance that we can get out of here?" Fred asked after a long silence, and Sam replied, gravely:

"We may as well look the matter straight in the face. It's possible they can strike us without much trouble, but that ain't likely."

During half an hour the boys remained silent and motionless, as if each was trying to reconcile himself to the terrible doom which threatened, and then Fred said, with a feeble attempt at cheerfulness:

"It must be near supper time. Suppose we have one square meal?"

"Because a man knows he's slowly drowning there's no reason why he should try to keep his head under water more than is necessary," Sam replied, sternly.

"What do you mean?"

"We are not suffering with hunger now, but soon will be, so it's wise to wait till grub is absolutely needed to keep us alive."

"Then let's do something; this sitting still thinking of what is to come seems worse than the reality can ever be."

"Very well, we've got a shovel; we'll decide in which direction it's best to dig, an' begin operations."

"There surely is a chance of striking another drift."

"Yes, there's a chance," Sam replied, as if the conversation wearied him. "Each one shall say which course he thinks most likely to bring us out."

Skip wished to continue up the slope, arguing that each inch gained would carry them so much nearer the surface, while Fred believed it best to work through the mass of earth that had fallen, because there a pick would not be necessary.

"We'd better try Skip's plan," Sam finally said. "By making our way along the old drift a chamber of gas might be struck, when all hands would be suffocated. Come on, and I'll start it."

He wielded the shovel until tired, the others carrying the earth back to the foot of the slope in their hats, and then Fred tried his hand at the labor.

In this manner each did a certain amount of the work, but at the expense of no slight suffering. In the confined space it was very warm, and this exercise brought with it an intense thirst, which, of course, could not be quenched.

Skip drank a little oil now and then, but Fred could not force himself to taste the ill-smelling stuff.

There was no way by which the passage of time could be measured. When all were sleepy they laid down to rest, and on awakening a small quantity of food was dealt out. After the scanty meal had been eaten they continued what every one now believed was useless labor, ceasing only when the desire for slumber became overpowering again.

Reckoning these periods of work and rest as days and nights, seventy-two hours had elapsed when the supply of food was exhausted, and they realized that the final struggle was at hand.

The air remained reasonably pure, probably because a vent had been left somewhere in the choked drift, but there were moments when the odor of gas was perceptible, thus causing Sam to believe efforts were still being made to reach them by those on the outside.

But little work was done when the food had been consumed. Now and then one or the other would use the shovel in a listless way for a few moments at a time, but each had become so weak that any prolonged exertion was out of the question.

They slept as much as possible, and refrained from discussing the terrible situation. Fred no longer listened for the sounds which would tell that help was near at hand, and the odor of the oil did not prevent him now from taking his share when the scanty allowance was doled out.

Finally the hour came when the last drop had been drank. The tiny flame of the lamp seemed to have been the only link which connected them with the outer world, and then without any means of dispelling the profound darkness the bitterness of death came upon them.

Fred was the first to sink into a stupor from which he awakened only at rare intervals. Then Skip yielded to despair, and Sam was virtually alone.

All three were half sitting, half lying in the excavation they had made, and the moments passed unheeded. To Fred it seemed as if he had been unconscious for many days when he became aware that Sam was shouting wildly.

In a dazed way he raised his head, and after a while understood that his companion was saying in an incoherent tone:

"They're coming! They're coming!"

"Who? Who?" Skip asked, feebly, trying in vain to rise to his feet.

"The miners! Can't you hear the sound of their picks?"

When they could bring themselves to understand the meaning of Sam's words both the sufferers were revived by the excitement sufficiently to stagger to an upright position, but as only at intervals was the cheering sound heard, fatigue soon overpowered them again, and once more Sam alone remained conscious.

He made every effort to preserve all his faculties, and after another long, painful time of suspense he was rewarded by hearing a faint hail.

"Hello! lads, are you near?"

"Yes! yes! In the end of a short slope."

"How many are there?"

"Three."

"All well?"

"Two are pretty near gone. Hurry as fast as possible."

"Don't fret, lad, we're workin' the best we know how, an' have been these four days, though not allers on the right track."

Then from time to time the laborers shouted in order that they might not deviate from the right course, and Sam answered each call at the full strength of his lungs, which at the best was faint.

Nearer and nearer came the sound of shovels and picks until the trembling of the wall told that life, liberty, and food were near at hand.

Sam remained leaning close against the barrier that he might hear every hail, until he saw the face of a man appear from amid a shower of falling earth, and then, knowing the rescue was accomplished he lost consciousness.

Around the mouth of the shaft stood a great crowd when the inanimate boys were brought out. During the nights as well as days this throng remained waiting to see those known to be in the half-ruined mine. These anxious watchers, sympathizing with the three grief-stricken mothers, had left their posts only so long as was absolutely necessary, and had seen each lifeless body as it was sent to the surface, the last coming from the slope being the mangled remains of Cale Billings.

Each morning the newspapers had printed long articles regarding the disaster at Farley's, and in the list of those known to be dead were four names, the number of victims sacrificed that Billings might avenge a fancied wrong.

With the rescue of the boys the work was finished, and in the rear of the bearers all the watchers and laborers followed to the village, remaining in the streets until word was sent that no injuries had been sustained.

Then, perhaps for the first time, came the question of what was to be done now that Farley's was in such a condition as to preclude any possibility that the works could be opened for several months.

"It's a hard look-out for all of us," one old miner said to a mate, "but thank God that villain of a Billings has no more than four lives to answer for."



CHAPTER XVIII

SHUT DOWN

Food and rest were all that was needed to restore the boys who had been rescued to their normal condition once more, and since the works were necessarily shut down they had ample opportunity for the latter remedy.

Fred learned from his mother that Bill and Joe had remained foremost among the laborers nearly every moment of the time they were imprisoned in the drift; but the full story of the rescue was not told until on the second day, when Joe called.

"It looked pretty blue one spell," the latter said in reply to Fred's questions. "The first attempt to get down the slope was a failure. When we reached the upper level all three were so nearly overcome by the foul air that Mr. Wright could hardly make the signal for the car to be pulled back. Late at night we tried it agin, an' brought out the four poor fellows who were caught on the slope. Next mornin' Billings' body was found, an' then it wasn't hard to tell what caused the trouble."

"Did you spend any time there looking for us?"

"No, for Bill and me calculated that if you hadn't got to Skip before the explosion come it would be a month's work to find the bodies. We went down the old shaft, an' began from there, workin' at guess till both of us began to believe we'd gone wrong. If Sam hadn't yelled jest as he did the gang would have started in from the old drift that runs to the chamber."

"In that case we wouldn't have been found in time."

"You're right; but seein' as we did find you all secure, there's no use speculatin' about the other side of the matter."

"Have you seen Skip?"

"He was down to the store this mornin' tellin' what he knew of Billings' movements, for the coroner is investigatin' the affair."

"And Sam?"

"He's lively as a cricket, an' counts on comin' here this afternoon."

"How long will it be before the works can be opened again?"

"Two or three months for the whole gang, but some can begin in half that time, I reckon. It's goin' to be rough on them as haven't anything laid by for a rainy day."

"And mother and I can be counted among those," Fred said, with a sigh.

"Don't worry about that my son," Mrs. Byram replied cheerily. "It is sufficient for me that your life has been spared, and I am certain we shall be able to provide for the future, but you are not to go into the mine again. The four terrible days spent at the slope, fearing each instant that the rescuing party would reach the drift too late, caused me to resolve that you should not be exposed to any more such dangers."

"But it don't stand to reason he'll have another experience like the last," Joe said, promptly. "He's already gone through more'n the majority of us fellers, an' lightning don't often strike twice in the same place."

Mrs. Byram shook her head to signify that the decision was final, but before she could add words to the gesture Mr. Wright knocked at the door.

"I have come to make some arrangements with Fred about working in the store," he said, as his summons was answered, and entering, continued, after a nod to the invalid and Joe, "we shall need more help there for a while, and will pay three dollars per week."

There could be no hesitation about accepting the proposition, and before the superintendent left it was decided Fred should begin next morning, provided he felt sufficiently strong.

"Sam Thorpe is to work with you," Mr. Wright said as he turned to leave the house, "and I expect good service from my new clerks."

"I'll go bail that you get it," Joe said, with a laugh, "an' now, if it ain't askin' too much, I'd like to know what chance there is for the rest of us."

"We can use about a hundred men, among whom will be you and Bill. The pumps have been choked so long that it will be some time before even the upper level can be put into working shape, but employment shall be given to all at the earliest possible moment."

Then Mr. Wright returned to the office, and during the remainder of the day Fred had quite as many callers as could be entertained in the little house.

Among these were Sam and Skip, and the latter renewed the promises made in the mine.

"I've backed out from the Regulators, an' while the shut down lasts am goin' to see what I can do in the way of workin' the garden. Father's let me off from a floggin' if I go straight after this."

On the following morning Fred was at his new place of business at a very early hour, and both he and Sam found plenty with which to occupy their time until sunset, when they were at liberty to do as they chose.

During the next week nothing of particular interest to the young clerks transpired.

At the mine the largest force, which could be worked to advantage, was employed, and those who were forced to remain idle were given credit for food and rent.

When the labor had become systematized to such a degree as to allow the superintendent a little leisure, and while Fred was copying some letters in the private office, Mr. Wright watching him several moments in silence, asked:

"Do you never expect to do anything but work in a mine, Fred?"

"Oh, yes, sir; if mother and I can get some money laid by I want to go to the city."

"What will you do there?"

"I don't know, sir, but there should be plenty of chances for a fellow who is willing to work."

"There are, but since it may be some time before you are in a condition to leave here, why not make yourself familiar with this branch of mining?"

"How could that be done, sir?"

"By hard study. You may use any of my books, and after getting a smattering of the business you might decide to take up civil engineering, a profession which would suit you admirably."

"If I only could."

"There is nothing to prevent. Here is a work which you can understand, and after mastering its contents I'll guarantee you're ready to hold your own against any engineer's assistant in the middle field."

On that very day Fred began his studies, and Sam joined him with the understanding that not less than two hours of each evening should be devoted to the work.

Both the boys were astonished at discovering how little they really knew about mining, even though well acquainted with many of the details, and rapid progress was made during the fortnight that followed.

"If you keep on at this rate we'll be lookin' for new buttys," Bill said one evening when the students had explained to him the principles of hydraulics.

"You won't need any for some time, and then, perhaps, we shall have learned how ignorant we are, and give up in despair."

"There'll be a good many called for to-morrow. The upper level is in workin' order, an' a hundred men are to be put on in the morning."

This was, indeed, good news. The inhabitants of Farley's had been anxiously awaiting the day when it would be possible to earn something toward the household expenses, and this first evidence that the works were really to be opened caused a great amount of pleasurable excitement.

Nearly every one in the village was at the mouth of the slope to see the workmen go in, and there Sam and Fred met Skip.

"Mr. Donovan has promised to take me into the breaker as soon as there is any coal to come out," he said, gleefully, "an' my garden is lookin' fine."

"I don't reckon you've sold many vegetables yet," Sam replied, laughingly.

"The plants are only just up, an' the stuff will be late; but the first that is ripe I'm going to send you fellers, an' Bill and Joe."

The miners entered, while the spectators cheered loudly, and then the idle ones dispersed, well content to know their time would soon come.

Skip returned to his garden, while Sam and Fred resumed their duties at the store, but were interrupted an hour later by Mr. Wright, who said:

"It is important that a message be delivered in Blacktown before noon, and there will be no train until late this afternoon. Do you boys feel in trim for a ten mile tramp across the mountain?"

"Yes, sir, an' double the distance if necessary," Sam replied, promptly.

"Very well; wrap up some crackers and cheese while I write a letter."

Ten minutes later the two were on their way with no slight task before them, for it would be necessary to travel over a rough country the entire distance, since the journey by the road around the mountain could not be performed in a day.

It was an agreeable change after having been confined to the store so long, and they trudged on merrily, resolved to return in a more leisurely fashion because Mr. Wright had said no more work would be required of them until morning.

In three hours the message had been delivered, and they were on their way home.

Little time was spent in the valley, but on ascending the mountain once more a halt was made for lunch.

They were midway between Blacktown and Farley's. Not a dwelling could be seen in either direction, and the boys speculated as to what the country looked like before coal was found in the vicinity.

"I wonder what caused the first man to come here lookin' for it?" Sam said, musingly.

"Most likely some one well up in geology was hunting for specimens, and found an out-cropping vein."

"It must have been a mighty pleasant surprise."

"And one that I would like to experience. Just fancy poking around in this way till you struck what could be easily turned into gold."

As he spoke Fred dug up the earth here and there with a stick, playing the part, as he supposed, of the first discoverer, and at the same time slowly ascending the mountain.

"Hold on; don't leave so soon. I'm just getting ready to rest in proper style."

Fred turned around to return when he struck his toe against what appeared to be a projecting rock, and fell headlong.

"That's what you get for tryin' your hand at prospecting," Sam said, with a laugh, and Fred arose to his feet with a rueful look on his face, which caused his companion yet more mirth.

"It may be sport for you, but I don't see anything so funny about knocking all the skin off——Hello! What a queer looking rock I tumbled over!"

He had turned, and was gazing at the projecting point, a fragment of which was broken, when Sam came up to learn the cause of his companion's astonishment.

"Why, it looks like coal!" he exclaimed, taking a piece from the ground to examine it more closely, and an instant later Fred was startled by hearing him shout, "It is coal! The vein at Farley's must run straight through the hill!"

"Then this belongs to the company."

"Not a bit of it. The one who owns the land can work here, and if we could raise money enough to buy ten or fifteen acres on this side of the hill, Byram and Thorpe would be mighty rich fellows."



CHAPTER XIX

THE CONSULTATION

It is not to be wondered at that the boys were in a perfect fever of excitement because of their startling discovery.

They uncovered the spurs of pure coal sufficiently to learn that it was a true vein, and, judging from the indications, there could be no question but it extended over a large area just below the surface.

"Is it as good as that taken out at Farley's?" Fred asked, when they ceased digging for a moment.

"I can't see any difference. Why, you and I alone could mine enough to make us pretty near rich, for there's neither shaft nor slope to be made."

"Do you suppose this land is valuable?"

"For farming purposes it isn't worth a cent, and unless the owner knows what is here it could be bought for a song."

"What is the price of a song according to that estimate?"

"Well, say a thousand dollars for a hundred acres."

"But you wouldn't need as much in order to get at this vein."

"Buildings would be necessary after a while, an' you'd want a track to get the coal into market."

"Don't you suppose we could manage to get a thousand dollars?"

"If you count on doin' it by workin' at Farley's, it would take about a thousand years. All the money I can earn has to be used by the family now that father isn't working."

"But can we do nothin'?"

"It does seem kinder tough to find a fortune, and not be able to take advantage of it, but I can't figure out how we can turn it to account."

"Let's fill our pockets with these pieces, and tell Mr. Wright what we've struck."

"Yes, an' before to-morrow night he'd own this whole tract. It would be wiser to see what Bill an' Joe think about the chances of raisin' money."

"Very well, we'll talk with them. It won't do to leave this uncovered, an' I'm in a hurry to get back."

The earth was scraped, and above this the boys strewed branches and leaves until one might have searched a long while without discovering the secret.

Then, walking at their best pace, the successful prospectors continued on toward Farley's, trying in vain to suppress their excitement.

Those whom they wished to consult were at the mine, and without even stopping to tell Mrs. Byram of their discovery they went directly to the slope.

Bill and Joe were in the second level, at some distance from the other workmen when the boys arrived.

"What do you think of that?" Fred asked, excitedly, as he held out one of his specimens.

Bill, supposing he was to see a rare sight, brought his cap-lamp close to the object for a second, and then said angrily:

"Haven't you boys got anything better to do than bring coal in here for us to look at? We see enough of that stuff without luggin' it around in our pockets."

"But this didn't come from Farley's."

"Well, s'posin it didn't, what of that?" and Bill threw the coal far down the drift.

"Not much, except that Sam and I found a vein three miles from any settlement."

"What?" both the miners cried in the same breath, and Bill ran to pick up what he had thrown away so contemptuously.

Fred began and Sam ended the story of the "find," and while they were talking Bill turned the specimen over and over, saying when they concluded:

"If as good coal as that shows at the surface it must be a big vein."

"It is, but how can we take advantage of the discovery? Sam thinks the land could be bought for a thousand dollars."

"Then you must buy it."

"How could we raise so much money?"

"People don't allers pay cash for what they buy. You might get it for two or three hundred dollars down, with a mortgage for the balance."

"Even then I don't see how it can be done."

"Nor I jest now, but we'll figure the thing out to-night at your house. Joe an' me will be there after supper. Don't tell anyone except your mother, 'nd when you boys are rich I speak for the job of breaker boss."

Then Bill and Joe, hardly less excited than their younger companions, resumed the interrupted labor, and the amateur prospectors went to tell the wonderful news to Mrs. Byram.

Fred's mother was not as elated as the boys thought the occasion demanded, but when the miners arrived, and appeared to be so sanguine that the discovery would be of great pecuniary benefit to those who made it she became greatly interested.

The main question was how to raise the necessary money with which to purchase the land, and this had not been answered when the party broke up at a late hour.

"We'll figger it out somehow," Bill said as the visitors arose to depart. "It's been sprung so sudden like that we haven't had time. Joe an' me will learn who owns the land first, an' then some of us'll get a bright idee."

With these cheering words the meeting was adjourned, and Sam and Fred went to bed to dream of becoming millionaires through the accident which befell the latter as he fell over the spur of coal.

Next morning, however, they awoke to the fact that the day's provisions depended upon their labors in the store, and as this was also the first step toward earning sufficient money with which to buy the land, both were on hand at an unusually early hour.

"I want you to go over to Blacktown bank," Mr. Wright said to Sam when he entered the building. "The train leaves in half an hour, and since you can return by the same conveyance there is no reason why I should give two boys a holiday, as I did yesterday."

"I will be ready in time, sir," Sam replied, and Fred whispered:

"Why not walk home, and see if anybody has been fooling around the spur we found."

"That's jest what I'll do, providin' it is possible to get back before the train is due. There can't be any kickin' if I'm here an hour or two ahead of time."

A package of papers and a bank book was given to Sam by the cashier, who said, warningly:

"Here are two thousand dollars in checks, and you are to bring back eight hundred dollars in change. Be careful what you do, and come home on the first train after the business has been done."

"I don't reckon any one would kick if I walked instead of waitin' until afternoon for the cars," Sam said as he took the documents.

"It isn't very safe to come across the mountains with so much cash; but I don't suppose there is any danger," the man replied, and Sam glanced meaningly at Fred as he left the building.

"I wish I hadn't said anything to him about looking at the vein," Fred muttered to himself as his companion disappeared from view. "It would be better if he came directly back without thinking of what will never bring us in a cent of money."

It was too late now, however, to regret the words which had been spoken, and Fred found plenty with which to busy himself during the remainder of the day.

At noon a telegram came for Mr. Wright, and in response to what was probably an imperative summons, he started for the city on the next train; the one on which Sam would have returned had he not determined to walk across the mountain.

An hour passed, and yet the messenger was absent.

"That boy has had time to travel twice the distance from Blacktown here," the cashier said impatiently to Fred, and the latter could make no reply, but he in turn was growing very anxious.

"How would it do for me to go and meet him?" he asked finally.

"That is foolish talk," was the petulant reply. "If he doesn't come soon it will be best to send a sheriff's officer."

This remark was well calculated to make Fred yet more nervous. Not for a moment did he believe Sam would do anything dishonest, and yet he should have been back, even in case he had walked home, several hours before.

It was after sunset when the messenger finally made his appearance, and Fred was about to greet him with words of jest, but the expression on Sam's face caused him decided alarm.

"What is the matter?" he asked, anxiously.

"I have been robbed," was the reply, in a hoarse whisper.

"How?"

"I don't know. Coming across the mountain I laid down on the land we wanted to buy, an' I fell asleep. When I awakened the money was gone, an' that is all I know about it."

"Money gone, eh?" the bookkeeper cried. "What did you want to buy land for?"

"That has nothing to do with the loss of the cash," Sam replied as he looked the man full in the face. "I lost the package which was given me at the bank, and have been hunting for it since noon."

"It will make considerable difference, as you'll find out before this thing is cleared up," and the cashier moved toward the door as if to prevent the boy from leaving the building. "Why not tell the truth, and say you stole the money?"

"Because I didn't do anything of the kind."

"Tell that to the marines, for you can't make me believe it. Thieves don't loaf around the mountain."

"They must have done so in this case, for I walked nearly back to Blacktown, and should have found the package if it had fallen from my pocket."

"Then where is it?"

"I don't know."

"Fred, go for a constable."

The cashier yet remained by the door, and now he held it open a few inches that his order might be obeyed.

"Please don't do a thing like that," Fred cried, while Sam stood near the desk pale as death, but every action breathing defiance.

"Do you think I'll let a boy steal eight hundred dollars, and do nothing toward recovering it?"

"Wait until Mr. Wright comes back and see what he thinks."

"And in the meantime he or his accomplice will have had plenty of time in which to carry the cash beyond our reach."

"But I am sure that what he tells is the truth."

"I don't believe a word of it. Such a thing never happened before, and the thief sha'nt go free now if I can prevent it."

Fred was about to plead yet further for his friend, but the cashier checked him by saying:

"Another word in his behalf and I shall believe you know something of this very mysterious robbery. Will you go for the constable?"

"No, I won't move a step from this place until Mr. Wright comes back."

This show of friendship was not sufficient to save Sam from the ignominy of an arrest. The cashier had hardly ceased speaking when one of the miners made an attempt to enter the store, and the angry official sent him for the guardian of the peace.

"You'll have a chance to go back to Blacktown, and it may be that you will find the money on the way," he said, in a tone of irony.

Sam made no reply. Silent and motionless he awaited the coming of the officer.



CHAPTER XX

THE ACCUSED

Not for a moment did Fred believe it possible Sam had done anything dishonest in regard to the money, and yet it seemed very singular that he could have been robbed without knowing when the deed was committed.

He had no opportunity to speak privately to the accused boy, because of the strict watch maintained by the cashier, but he remained very near him, as if eager to show confidence in his innocence.

From the time the miner had been sent in search of an officer not a word was spoken. Now and then Sam glanced at his friend as if to ask that his story be credited, and the accuser kept a strict watch over every movement.

There was no parley when the officer arrived, his duty was to take the prisoner away, and he did so in a matter-of-fact manner which aroused all of Fred's anger.

"It wouldn't do him any harm to say he knows you ain't a thief," he whispered, "but never mind, old fellow, Bill an' Joe shall come to see you."

"Believe I've told the truth, an' that is enough for me," Sam replied, with a choking sob. "Tell the folks at home about it, but try to make 'em know I never stole a dollar."

Fred promised to do this, and would have accompanied his friend to the depot but for the cashier, who said, sternly:

"I insist on your remaining here. A large amount of money is missing; you boys have got a secret between you, and it may have some connection with the robbery. I will not allow you to talk with the prisoner."

"Do as he says, an' don't have any row," Sam added.

"I'll stay here," was the reply, "and when Mr. Wright gets back we'll see what he's got to say about it."

"It's time for the train," the constable interrupted.

"Go on quickly, Sam, before a crowd gathers."

Fred gazed after the accused until he was lost to view in the distance, and then turned away with a heavy heart.

The cashier had nothing more to say about the robbery, but he found plenty of work for the boy to do, much as if wishing to keep him in sight until Mr. Wright came home.

It was half-past eight when the last train arrived and the superintendent was not on it.

Fred should have been home two hours before, and his mother, always in fear of an accident since the explosion, came in search of him.

To her the story of Sam's misfortune was told, and she at once demanded a private interview with the cashier.

"Don't tell him why we wanted to buy land," Fred whispered, and his mother promised to keep the secret for a short time at least.

Ten minutes' conversation with the angry official sufficed, and then the two went to Sam's home, where the sad news was told.

Not until ten o'clock did Fred and his mother reach the little cottage where Bill and Joe were impatiently awaiting their arrival.

"We've heard something about the trouble," the former said, "and want to know all the perticlars."

Fred repeated what has already been told, and added:

"What he said concerning the land we talked of buying has made the cashier more suspicious than he would have been. It's too bad to give the secret away, but it must be done unless the money can be found."

"There's no reason why we can't wait a while," Joe said after some thought. "I'll go to Blacktown to-morrow, an' see him."

"You surely can't think he took it?"

"Of course not, an' yet I don't understand how it could 'a been stole."

"He must have lost the money."

"It wouldn't be a bad plan for us to walk to Blacktown over the same path he took," Bill said. "Fred can show us the way."

"I don't believe they'll let me leave. The cashier seems to think I'm concerned in the robbery."

"It won't take me long to tell him he don't run this place. I'll go to Mr. Wright's house, find out when he's likely to be back, an' then tend to the other matter. Joe, wait here."

The miner was not absent more than an hour, and when he returned the others had come to the conclusion that Sam had lost the money before reaching the coal vein.

"Mr. Wright has jest telegraphed that he's on his way to New York, so we may not see him for two or three days. I've told the folks at the store what's to be done, an' though there's some kickin' about Fred's leavin', they don't dare to say very much."

Then the sad visaged party separated to get as much rest as possible, and at early dawn the miners were at Mrs. Byram's again.

Believing Sam had traveled over nearly the same course as that taken by he and Fred, the latter did his best to guide the searchers correctly.

"There's no use to hunt round very much till we strike the vein, for there's where he missed the money, so we'd better travel at our best gait to that place," Joe said, as he led the way with Fred by his side.

The sun had been above the horizon but a few moments when they reached the scene of the discovery, and despite Sam's dangerous position Bill insisted on viewing the out-cropping of coal.

"It's a true vein, there's no question of that," he said, after a careful examination, "an' we must hustle to get the cash what's needed to buy the property."

"I'd be willin' to give up my share if Sam was out of his scrape."

"You won't do any such foolish thing. We'll help the lad an' ourselves at the same time, for there's a chance to get rich here which mustn't be lost," and Bill covered the spur once more.

Now the search was begun. Fred led the way slowly, the others following a short distance behind, and all three scrutinized the ground carefully.

Not a word was spoken by either until they were on the highway near Blacktown, and then Bill said sadly:

"If it was lost somebody has found it, an' in case thieves run him down it ain't likely they're going to be so foolish as to give us a chance to get on their track."

"Where are we to go now?" Fred asked.

"We'll see a lawyer if there's one in the place, an' then have a talk with Sam."

There was no trouble about getting legal advice, and in the company of a kindly-faced gentleman the party were ushered into the jail where Sam, in the lowest depths of despair, was found.

"Oh, I'm so glad you've come!" he cried, seizing Fred by both hands. "It has been terrible here."

"Don't be downhearted, lad," Bill said, with an attempt at cheerfulness. "We'll stick by you no matter what happens."

"I want you to tell me the whole story," the lawyer interrupted. "Describe every little particular of the journey."

"There isn't much to tell. I got the money, an' walked as fast as I could to a place on the mountain, where I laid down to rest, an' fell asleep. When I woke up the package was gone."

"Did you see anyone who might be following you?"

"No sir."

"Whom did you meet after leaving the town?"

"Not a single person."

"Are you certain the money was in your pocket when you laid down?"

"I felt of it a little while before that."

The lawyer continued to question Sam for a long while, but without gaining any new information, and even the boy's friends were forced to admit that the story was a strange one.

"I'd say it was thin if I didn't know Sam so well," Bill mused as the party left the jail after promising the prisoner they would return at the earliest opportunity.

"The boy couldn't 'a took the money, that's certain; but how he contrived to get rid of it beats me."

"It is possible we may learn something to our advantage before the trial can be held," the lawyer suggested in a tone which to Fred sounded the reverse of cheerful; "but I think it very important you should see Mr. Wright without delay."

"Joe shall go to New York."

"How could I find him there?"

"Fred and me'll get right back to Farley's, ask for his address, an' send it to you by telegraph."

"That is a very good idea. A train leaves in less than an hour," the lawyer said approvingly. "Decide where the message shall be sent, and it will be there before he arrives."

Joe was unwilling to take so much responsibility upon himself, and urged that he did not look fit to visit the city; but Bill overruled all his objections.

"You're the one to go, so that settles it," the miner said as he pulled out his wallet. "Here's what money I've got, an' if more's needed let me know."

"What am I to say to the superintendent if I see him?"

"Urge that no further steps be taken against the boy. After what you say he did during the riot the officers of the company should be lenient."

"But that kind of talk sounds as if you believed he'd stole the money," Bill exclaimed in surprise.

"The case looks very bad for him, and if it should be called up before we found some evidence in his favor he would most certainly be convicted."

Sam's friends gazed at each other in astonishment. That the lawyer employed to defend him should thus intimate he was guilty almost shook their faith in the boy's innocence.

"You must go all the same," Bill said, after a long pause, "an' me an' Fred will toddle back home."

The adieus consisted only of the words "good-bye," and then the miner and the boy turned their faces toward Farley's once more.

"It seems as if finding the coal was bad luck for us," Fred said when they were on the mountain. "If it hadn't been for that, poor Sam never would have thought of walking home."

"I don't go very much on what folks call luck, lad. The thing was bound to come whether you saw the vein or not, so we must buck agin it."

"The lawyer thinks Sam stole the money."

"An' more'n he'll believe the same if somethin' don't turn up."

"I can't fancy what could happen to help him unless the thief himself came forward to tell the whole story."

"It does look kinder black, but we mustn't lose heart."

"Of course this settles our chances of buying the land."

"Nothin' of the kind. My day is broke up now, an' I'll spend the rest of it lookin around a bit."

"Sam will need all the money we've got to spend."

"I've a little laid by for a rainy day, an' with what Joe can raise we oughter pull through on both jobs."

On arriving at the spur another search was made with the same result as before, and then the two hurried on, sending a telegram to Joe immediately after reaching the town.



CHAPTER XXI

AMATEUR DETECTIVES

Fred was forced to attend to his duties at the store immediately after the return from Black town, and while so engaged could not fail to hear the many comments upon the case.

The news of the alleged robbery had spread with wonderful rapidity, and the majority of the miners believed Sam to be guilty.

Twice during the afternoon the cashier questioned Fred closely as to what the prisoner meant when he spoke of their desire to buy land, but despite the coaxing and even threats he refused to divulge the secret.

"If it can't be helped I'll tell Mr. Wright, but nobody else," the boy repeated, and further than this he positively refused to speak.

"Then it's time you went home," the official finally said, in an angry tone. "You know so much about this thing that I don't believe it's safe to have you where there are many valuable things which might be stolen."

"If you think I'm a thief, why not send me to jail with Sam?"

"I shall suggest to Mr. Wright that you be arrested, and I fancy he'll follow my advice."

Fred walked out of the store knowing that several of the clerks had overheard the latter portion of the conversation, and believing those whom he met on the street already looked upon him as a thief.

"It can't be helped, my boy," his mother said. "You have the satisfaction of knowing the accusation is false, and that must suffice until the time when the whole affair is brought to light."

"I'm afraid that never will be. Everybody thinks Sam is lying, and if we should tell of the coal we discovered the folks would say for sure he stole the money."

During the remainder of the day Fred staid in the house, not so much as showing his face at the window, and shortly after sunset Bill called.

"I've found out who owns the land," he cried triumphantly.

"I wish we'd never walked across the mountain."

"Now don't be foolish, lad."

"How can I help it when people call me a thief."

"I heard the cashier had kinder turned you out: but that don't 'mount to anything. Wait till the superintendent comes back."

"He'll believe as the others do."

"Then wait till I catch the real thief."

"You?"

"I'm going to try it."

"But you can't leave the mine."

"That's jest what I have done."

"What? Have you thrown up the job?"

"Me an' the cashier had a little tiff a few minutes ago, an' I've closed accounts with Farley's."

"I hope you didn't take up what he said to me."

"Well, I kinder had a row on my own account, but that ain't neither here nor there. We're both loafin' now, an' I want you to take a trip with me."

"Where?"

"I ain't jest sure, but we'll strike Blacktown first, an' then go wherever things look most promisin'."

"Have you heard anything?" Mrs. Byram asked, as she gazed at the man sharply.

"I can't say I have, an' I can't say I haven't. Skip give me a idee that's worth workin' up even if it comes to nothin', so we'll have a vacation."

"Tell me what you've heard?" Fred cried, excitedly.

"It ain't so very much, only jest enough to set me thinkin'. One of Skip's regulators was over here this noon, an' flashed up considerable money for a boy like him."

"And you think he stole the package from Sam?"

"I don't say anything of the kind, but Skip heard 'bout the trouble Sam was in, an' thought it wouldn't do a bit of harm if we found out where this feller got so much cash."

"When are you going?"

"In the mornin', but don't get your hopes up, for it may all end in smoke."

Regardless of this warning Fred did grow excited, and before Bill took his departure he felt quite confident that the thief would soon be discovered.

His spirits fell considerably next morning when Joe returned from New York, having come home on the night train.

"It's no use," he said sadly, as he entered Mrs. Byram's home just as Fred and Bill were making ready to set out for Blacktown.

"Won't Mr. Wright do anything to help Sam?"

"No; he says if the boy is innocent it will be much better to have the matter settled in court, when everybody will know he was wrongfully accused."

"Does he believe him guilty?"

"I'm afraid so, though he didn't say very much."

"When is he coming home?"

"Day after to-morrow. He got a long letter from the cashier yesterday, an' I reckon that made the case look pretty tough agin Sam."

"Well," Bill said, speaking for the first time since the arrival of his mate, "we've spent the money for nothin', but it can't be helped now. We thought it would be best to see him, an' since it's turned out wrong all we can do is to push the other plan for what it's worth."

"What's the other plan?" Joe asked.

Bill explained, and concluded by saying:

"It will be a good idee to have you here to post us on what happens while we're away. Keep your eyes peeled, an' if anything pertic'lar turns up come over."

Then, without waiting to hear whether Joe was pleased with the idea, Bill started, calling sharply to Fred as he left the house:

"It won't do to loaf, lad, if we've got to get Sam out of the scrape with all the officers of the company agin us."

A hurried good-bye to Joe, a kiss from his mother, and Fred followed, bent on proving his friend's innocence in order that the suspicion of crime might also be removed from him.

During the walk to Blacktown hardly a word was spoken, but Bill said when they were within sight of the village:

"We'd best separate here an' to-night I'll meet you over by the hotel."

"Ain't we going to see Sam?"

"Not to-day."

"But what am I to do?"

"Walk 'round 'till you run across Skip, an' then make friends with the feller what's with him."

"Is Skip here?" Fred asked in surprise.

"Of course, else how could we find the boy? I gave him money last night, an' reckon he come over on the first train."

"Did he say where he'd be?"

"No, but you'll sure run across him. Then hang 'round till it's time to meet me. It don't stand to reason well find out anything to-day, but we'll get our pipes laid."

Bill turned away as if fearing to prolong the interview lest he be seen by the boy whom he fancied knew something about the case, and Fred walked aimlessly to and fro for nearly an hour, when he was accosted by Skip.

"When did you come?" the latter asked, as if in surprise as he glanced meaningly toward a rather disreputable looking boy at his side.

Fred told the exact truth, and added that he was "laying off" from work for a day or two because of an invitation of Bill Thomas' to see the sights in Blacktown.

Skip's friend at once proposed that Fred spend the day with them, and the two strangers in the village were soon pretending to enjoy the lavish hospitality of the fellow who was known by the name of Gus Dobson.

Only once, before it was time to meet Bill did Skip have a chance to speak privately with Fred. Their host had left them while he talked in whispers for several moments with a friend of about the same age and general appearance, and Skip said:

"I'd like mighty well to help Sam out of his scrape, 'cause it would kinder square off what I did to hurt you an' him."

"Do you think this fellow knows anything about the money?"

"He ain't givin' himself away; but jest see how much cash he's got. As many as three dollars were spent yesterday at Farley's, and he's still slingin' it out."

"Perhaps this is some he's been saving."

"Gus Dobson hasn't worked any to speak of since the Regulators was started, an' I know he hadn't a cent at the time of the fuss over to Farley's."

"Has he said anything about Sam?"

"Yesterday he asked a good many questions."

"I don't see how we're going to find out where the money comes from unless he wants to tell us," Fred said, with a sigh, and then Gus, looking considerably disturbed, joined them.

"When are you fellers goin' home?" he asked, abruptly.

"I'll start pretty soon," Skip replied, "but Fred don't have to leave till Bill Thomas gives the word. What's up?"

"Nothin' much 'cept I won't see you agin."

"Why not?"

"I promised to take a trip with the feller what was jest here, an' it's time we was off."

"What's that for?"

"I don't know as it's any business of yours," and Gus looked at his guests suspiciously.

"Of course not," Skip replied quickly, "but we've had such a good time that a feller can't help feelin' sorry you've got to go."

This explanation did not appear to be entirely satisfactory.

The boy alternately gazed at one and then the other for several moments in silence, and finally said in a threatening tone:

"A good many fellers have tried to get the best of me, but I allers made 'em sick before the job was finished."

"Now what are you drivin' at?" Skip asked, in well simulated surprise.

"If you don't know I won't waste time talking," was the reply, as Gus walked hurriedly away, and the boys saw him join his friend a short distance off.

"He's tumbled to our game," Skip said sadly, "an' I'd like to knock the head off the feller what put him up to it."

"That shows he knows something about the money."

"He may think we're on another racket; but there's no use loafin' 'round here. I'll go to the depot an' you find Bill."

Fred had no difficulty in following this last suggestion. The miner was already at the rendezvous, and when the details of the apparent failure had been given, he exclaimed angrily:

"It's all my fault, an' instead of helpin' Sam I've done him a power of harm."

"What do you mean?"

"I was in too much of a hurry, and thought myself mighty smart, so told the lawyer what we suspicioned. He ain't much less of a fool than I am, for he sent out to find a friend of Gus', and asked him all kinds of questions. Now we've driven 'em away, an' may as well go ourselves."

"Are we to give up working?"

"There's no use in stayin' here any longer, an' we'll strike across the mountain. Come on, so's it'll be possible to get home before dark."



CHAPTER XXII

UNEXPECTED NEWS

Fred was opposed to leaving Blacktown without seeing Sam; but Bill, smarting under the sense of having brought about his own defeat, insisted upon an immediate departure.

"It ain't likely we could get into the jail now the day is so far spent, an' if we did, what would be the use? There's nothing that could be said to cheer the boy."

"I promised."

"You can keep it the next time we come," and Bill put an end to the discussion by starting toward the mountain.

Fred followed with a heavy heart, and the two trudged on in silence until they were within a short distance of the newly-discovered coal vein, when Bill exclaimed in surprise:

"I'm blest if there isn't Joe! What's up now, I wonder?"

This question was soon answered. The approaching miner cried while yet some distance away:

"What are you comin' back so soon for?"

"There was no reason why we should stay longer," and without sparing himself in the slightest, Bill explained what a blunder had been committed.

"Well, you'd better go to Blacktown agin, or else take the train for New York."

"Why?"

"The cashier has been swearin' out a warrant for Fred's arrest, an' it'll be served the minute he gets back."

"A warrant for me?" Fred cried in alarm. "What have I done?"

"The fool thinks you know where the money is, an' that you made the arrangements with Sam, before he left, to get away with it."

"Mr. Wright won't allow such a thing."

"The letter he wrote seems to have made the cashier's neck stiffer than it was yesterday, an' I don't reckon it would do much good to depend on any officer of the company."

"I'll give that feller a piece of my mind," Bill cried angrily, and Joe replied:

"Don't do it yet a while. He told Donovan this noon that you'd gone with Fred to put the cash in a safe place, so it may be that the constable would like to see you by this time."

"Why, where does he think it was?"

"Buried on the mountain somewhere, an' if he sends men out to see if any diggin' has been done lately, the vein will surely be found."

"I'll go back any way!" Bill cried after a short pause. "Such as him shan't call me a thief."

"Now, look here, matey, what will be the good of gettin' yourself in jail? I've told Fred's mother jest how the matter stands, an' she believes as I do, that it'll be better to hang off a while in the hope something will turn up."

"An' have the constables chasin' us all over the country."

"It ain't certain they'll do that."

"But it may never be known positively who took the money," Fred added.

"If you're both so anxious to go to jail, wait till it is proved Sam is a thief, an' then show up to the constable. Things can't be worse for holdin' on a few days."

"'Cordin' to your own figgerin' there's a chance the coal will be found."

"I'll take care of that business while you an' Fred keep out of sight. With what I had, an' what could be borrowed, I've got two hundred an' twenty dollars. You shall take the odd money, an' the balance I'll plank down as a first payment on the land."

"Do you know who owns it?"

"A farmer who lived five or six miles the other side of Blacktown."

"That's correct, an' the sooner you see him the better."

"Will you agree to keep away from Farley's?"

"Yes," Bill said slowly, as if angry with himself for making the promise. "Fred an' me'll sneak 'round 'till the trade's made for this side the mountain, an' then figger up what it's best to do."

"Where can I see you to-morrow?"

"Right here. We'll stay in the woods a night or two."

"Have you got anything to eat?"

"No; but it's an easy matter to buy all we want."

"Take this money in case it is necessary to leave on the jump, an' I'll go on."

Handing his mate the twenty dollars, Joe went at a sharp gait toward Blacktown, and Bill said, with a shrug of the shoulders:

"So we're both thieves 'cordin' to the cashier's ideas; but wait 'till we get the land secured, an' I'll give that young man a lesson such as won't be very pleasant."

"Do you really mean to sleep in the woods?"

"Why not? It's warm weather, an' we'll be pretty nigh as well off there as at home."

"Then we'd better be looking for a good place. If mother hadn't sent word that I was to stay away, I'd go to Farley's this minute an' let them arrest me, for it seems as if we act guilty by running off."

"That's jest my idee, lad; but we'll obey orders a day or two."

A short distance to the right was a thickly-wooded grove, and here the two soon found what would serve very well as a camp.

A small cleared space, almost entirely screened from view by bushes, afforded all the protection which might be needed, and Bill threw himself on the ground.

"I reckon we can go without supper," he said, with forced cheerfulness, "an' there'll be no bother about lockin' the doors."

"It won't be long before I'm asleep. Walking around so much has tired me more than a full day's work in the breaker."

"Don't keep awake on my account. The sooner your eyes are closed the sooner you'll forget that there's a chance of bein' sent to jail."

With his head pillowed on some dry leaves Fred had no difficulty in summoning slumber; but Bill tossed to and fro on the hard bed without the slightest desire for sleep.

The boy was dreaming of the frightful hours spent in the short slope after the explosion, when he was awakened by the pressure of a hand on his mouth.

It was dark, save for the twinkling stars, and silent, except when the leaves were swayed by the gentle wind.

"Don't speak," Bill whispered as he removed his hand. "I can see the light of a fire over there to the right, an' it's well for us to know who are campin' so near."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Follow me. We'll creep up far enough to see what's goin' on, an' then come back, unless there's reason for changin' our lodgings."

"I'll keep close behind you," and Fred rose to his feet, Bill parting the bushes with both hands to avoid the slightest noise.

The glow of flames could be seen a long distance away, evidently on the opposite edge of the grove, and the two approached it as rapidly as was consistent with silence.

Soon the hum of voices was heard, and after a short time Bill stopped suddenly, gripped Fred by the hand, and pointed ahead.

Around a camp-fire, over which pieces of meat were being cooked, sat Gus Dobson and the friend who had caused him to distrust Fred and Skip.

"There may be a chance for us to find out a good deal of what we want to know," Bill whispered, and once more he advanced, moving with the utmost caution.

It was possible for the spies to creep within five yards of the encampment, thanks to the bushes, and when this had been accomplished the boys were eating supper.

"I don't believe in stayin' here too long," Gus was saying when Fred and Bill were near enough to distinguish the conversation.

"Nobody 'd think of huntin' for us in this place," his companion replied, "an' it ain't safe to take the cars yet a while, for them boys from Farley's have got men to back 'em."

"S'pposen they have? How can anybody find us if we walk up the track to the next station?"

"It's easy enough to send word all around, an' then we'd be nabbed the minute we showed our noses in a town."

"It will be jest as bad if they come here huntin' for us."

"You're a reg'lar fool, Gus Dobson. So long as we can keep the stuff where it is, what'll be gained by arrestin' us? We've got to take it with us when we leave, an' then whoever catches us will have the thing down fine."

"But we can't stay here forever."

"A couple of weeks won't hurt us, an' by that time folks will give up lookin' so sharp. They'll think we got away."

"We're too near Farley's."

"Then make a move. We can keep on a dozen miles or so through the woods, an' bury the stuff agin."

"I wanter get to New York."

"There's plenty of time for that, an' it'll be nothing more'n fun to camp out two or three weeks."

Gus made no reply, and after supper had been eaten his companion lay down beside the fire, saying as he did so:

"I'm goin' to sleep; you can figger the thing out between now and mornin', and say what you're willin' to do."

"It'll have to be as you say, I s'pose," Gus replied, sulkily; "but we must leave here."

"All right, we'll start to-morrow, an' when a good place is found, put up a reg'lar camp."

As he said this the boy rolled over as if to end the conversation, and Gus laid down beside him.

Bill waited until the heavy breathing of both told that they were asleep, and then, with a motion to Fred, he began to retreat.

Not until he was an hundred yards from the camp-fire did the miner halt, and said in a low whisper:

"It was a mighty good thing for us that warrant had been sworn out for you. If the cashier had waited a day or so we'd gone home without an idee of where them young scoundrels were."

"It seems certain they've got the money."

"Not a doubt of it."

"Why don't we jump right in on them? Perhaps they'd tell where it was buried."

"If they didn't we'd be worse off than before, for either one is smart enough to know nothin' can be done to 'em while the cash is hid. The only way for us is to keep an eye on the little villains, 'till they get ready for a move. Then we'll do our work."

"It'll be pretty hard to watch in the daytime without being seen ourselves."

"We must manage to do it somehow, for this is, perhaps, our last chance to help Sam."



CHAPTER XXIII

A MISADVENTURE

Neither Fred nor Bill had any desire to sleep, now that the solution of the mystery seemed so near. They remained in the same place where the halt was made until the blackness of night gave way before the pale threads of light.

"It's gettin' pretty nigh time to begin our work," Bill said, "an' this heat we mustn't make any mistake."

"I'm afraid we can't get near enough to see whether they take the money or not. Perhaps it isn't anywhere around here."

"Then we'll follow 'em, if it takes a week, to find out what we're after. My idee is that we'd better separate, so's to make sure of knowin' what's goin' on. You stay here, an' I'll creep over to the other side, then we shall be doublin' our chances."

"But what is to be done in case we don't see them dig up the money?"

"Foller, no matter how long a chase they lead us. We shall come together somewhere on the road; but it won't be a bad plan for you to take a little of this money. If we had only bought some grub last night things would be in better shape."

"I can get along without food for a week if there is any hope of helping Sam."

"The whole thing will be cleared up providin' we don't loose sight of them. Here's the money, an' now I'll be off. You'd best crawl nearer before the sun rises."

With a pressure of the hand Bill started, making a wide detour around the encampment, and Fred was alone, trying hard to repress a tremor of excitement which was causing him to tremble as if in an ague fit.

After waiting half an hour, and assuring himself that Bill was well off, Fred began an advance, working his way from bush to bush until convinced he could approach no nearer with safety.

By this time the sun had risen, and his rays falling upon the faces of the sleepers, awakened them.

Both sprang to their feet, and Gus began building the fire while his companion was busily engaged at something among the bushes—preparing food for cooking, as Fred thought.

"Then you still think we oughter leave here?" Gus said, interrogatively.

"Yes, an' the sooner the better. There's no knowin' when that feller's friends may come sneakin' around agin. We'll hurry up with the breakfast, an' start when it's over."

The boys had quite an outfit, as Fred could now see. A frying-pan, coffee-pot, tin cups, plates, and a bag well filled with provisions.

Gus acted the part of cook, and soon the odor of hot coffee was wafted in the direction of the watcher, causing him to feel the need of something to eat.

But little conversation was indulged in during the preparations for the meal. Gus' companion did not show himself until everything was ready, and then he ate hurriedly as if time was too precious to admit of talking.

"Now let's divide the load," the boy said, as he leaped to his feet and began tying the cooking utensils together. "If you'll see to the grub, I'll take care of these."

Fred gazed intently, expecting to see the money exposed to view; but no mention was made of it.

Gus shouldered the bag; his companion swung the remainder of the baggage over his shoulder, and the two started, walking rapidly around the mountain on a course which would carry them to the eastward at right angles with the railroad track.

Fred followed, remaining as far in the rear as was possible to keep them within view, and at such a distance that he could no longer overhear the conversation.

Beyond a doubt Bill was also in pursuit; but he did not show himself, and Fred fancied he was well over to the left travelling on a parallel line with the boys.

During an hour these relative positions were maintained, and then Gus threw down the bag as if to make a halt.

"Now they're going to dig up the money," Fred said to himself, and he pressed forward that he might see all which occurred.

In this he was mistaken, however. The two had simply stopped to rest, and such of the conversation as could be overheard only had reference to the location for a permanent camp, Gus insisting they were far enough away from the villages, while his companion urged that twice this distance should be covered.

"It's plain they have no idea of digging," Fred muttered. "It begins to look as if we had made a big mistake; but if that is so, what was the meaning of the talk they made last night?"

It was an enigma which he could not solve. Although believing they were on the wrong track, he did not feel at liberty to abandon the search until after consulting with Bill, and as yet no signs had been seen of that gentleman.

The halt was continued for half an hour, and then the two boys pushed on again, walking at a leisurely pace until the forenoon was well nigh spent, when they came to a full stop at the bank of a small brook.

They were now, as nearly as Fred could judge, eight or nine miles from the starting point, and that this was the end of the journey could be told by the preparations made.

From the bag a new hatchet was produced, and both set about hewing small trees and bushes with which to build a camp.

Not until this shelter was put up did Fred dare to move near enough to hear what was said, and then he found a hiding-place in the thicket twenty paces in the rear of the rude dwelling.

Even though two hours had been spent in this work, Bill did not show himself. It was possible, however, that he believed it dangerous to move about in the daytime, but would join his companion after dark.

Such conversation as the boys indulged in had no especial interest to the listener, since it referred almost entirely to the length of time they would remain in the camp.

When the day came to an end Fred had not heard anything of importance, and he resolved to advise an immediate return to Farley's when Bill should join him.

During the evening Gus and his companion appeared to be very jolly; they told stories, sang, and laughed as if there was nothing in connection with this "camping out" to be concealed, and the watcher in the bushes wondered why the miner did not come.

Half a dozen men might have walked around the encampment without being observed by the boys, and Bill's delay seemed very singular.

Fred did not dare to leave his place of concealment, and even if it had been perfectly safe to do so, he knew not in which direction to look for his friend, therefore nothing could be done save exercise patience.

The hours passed without any change in the condition of affairs. The camp-fire burned itself out. The supposed culprits retired to rest, and Fred, who had slept but a short time during the previous night, found it absolutely impossible to prevent his eyes from closing.

Lower and lower his head drooped upon his breast until slumber came, and he remained unconscious for many hours.

The glare of the sunlight aroused him after the occupants of the camp were astir, and he sprang to his feet in alarm.

The noise made by this sudden movement startled those whom he had been detailed to watch, and before Fred could collect his scattered senses both the boys were upon him.

For a single instant the three stood surveying each other, and then Gus and his companion seized the bewildered spy by the arms, rendering useless his frantic struggles to defend himself.

"Can you hold him, Tim, while I get something to tie his hands?" Gus cried, and Tim replied:

"I can take care of three or four jest like him. Get the rope outer the bag; that'll be strong enough."

With a quick movement the boy clasped Fred around the waist and held him firmly until Gus returned.

When the prisoner's hands had been lashed to his side he was led to the camp, where his legs were also bound, and the captors seated themselves in front of him.

"Now tell us where that man is?" Tim said, sternly.

"What man?"

"You know who I mean; the feller what come over to Blacktown with you an' Skip."

"I wish I knew," Fred replied with a sigh.

"Don't lie to us," and Gus shook his fist in the helpless boy's face. "That miner went to a lawyer an' told him I had a hand in stealin' the money what Sam Thorpe lost. Then you an' Skip tried to pump me. Now give us the whole yarn, or things will be mighty hot."

Fred remained silent.

"He's been follerin' us ever since we left the town," Tim said after a moment's thought, "an' it stands us in hand to get outer this lively, or the rest of his gang will be on us."

"Have we got to do more trampin' jest on account of a sneak like this?" Gus asked fretfully.

"Do you want to stay an' run the chance of bein' carried back to Blacktown?"

"Of course not; but travelin' all the time when we mighter got on the cars in the first place is more'n I bargained for."

"If you'd had your way we'd been pulled in before this. Get the stuff in shape, an' I reckon we'll fix things right now. Let him carry the load, an' we'll take the tramp kinder easy."

Gus obeyed with a very ill grace, and while he was getting the cooking utensils together Tim walked along the bank of the brook to where a flat stone lay half submerged in the water.

Fred watched his every movement as he overturned this, and dug with a pointed stick until a small, square package had been exposed to view.

There was no question in the prisoner's mind but that the wrappings of cloth covered the money Sam was accused of stealing, and now the secret had really been discovered, all else seemed trifling in comparison.

"I wonder how it happened that I didn't see that when they left the last camp?" he thought, as Tim put the bundle carefully in the inside pocket of his coat.

"So you've found out what you come for, eh?" the boy cried, angrily. "Well, it won't do any good, for when we get through with sneaks they can't do much harm. Pick up that load, an' if you don't walk lively I'll find a way to make you."

"How can I pick up anything while my legs are tied?"

Tim unfastened the ropes from Fred's ankles; loosened one of his arms, and threw the cooking utensils over his shoulder.

"Come on Gus," he said, impatiently. "We'll take turns carryin' the grub 'till we've given the slip to whoever may be follerin', and then he can tote the whole load."

Fred was faint from lack of food; but he mentally braced himself to perform the task, and Gus cried as he struck him a blow full in the face:

"Step out now, an' when we make camp to-night you'll get a taste of how we serve spies. It'll be a worse dose than the regulators ever gave you, an' don't forget it."

"There's no time for foolishness," Tim said, impatiently. "His gang may be close behind, an' we can't afford to pay him off yet a while."

With this sage remark he took up the provision bag, and led the way across the base of the hill, at right angles with the course pursued on the previous day, while Gus remained in the rear to urge the prisoner on in case he faltered.



CHAPTER XXIV

BILL'S MISHAP

Joe Brace returned to Farley's on the morning after he warned Bill and Fred of what the cashier intended to do, and went directly to Mrs. Byram's.

"I've bought the land!" he cried, exultantly. "The farmer was mighty glad of a chance to sell for five hundred dollars, an' if I'd had more time the price could have been whittled down to four. There's a mortgage of three hundred to be paid in a year, an' that'll be jest the same as nothin' after we show up what's there."

"Did you see Fred?" the widow asked, anxiously, paying but little attention to the good news.

"Met him an' Bill last night; told 'em what was up, and they'll keep shady 'till things can be fixed."

"Then nothing was accomplished by their going to Blacktown?"

Joe explained why that excursion had been a failure, and added:

"They're on the right track, so we can count on everything comin' out right before long."

"Are you intending to stay here?"

"No; I only came to tell you what had been done, an' shall go back on the train to make sure my deed is recorded. I bought in the name of Byram, Thorpe, Thomas & Brace. How does that strike you for a firm?"

"Although you and Mr. Thomas are so sure the discovery will be a source of great wealth, I can't feel much interest in it while Fred is in danger. I wish they would go to some city, rather than remain so near home."

"I shall see 'em this afternoon an' now that the business of the land is settled, will advise them to take a little pleasure trip."

"Please see to it that they do not suffer for food."

"I'll tend to everything in great shape. Have you heard whether Mr. Wright has got back?"

"He sent word that he would be home to-night."

"Then, perhaps, I'd better wait an' have another talk with him."

"No, no; I will see him myself. It is more important you care for those who are hiding in the woods."

Joe had no further time for conversation. The train by which he intended to return to Blacktown was already due and he hurried away after repeating confidently:

"I'll see'em to-night, ma'am, an' you can rest easy. They shall live on the fat of the land now we own a coal mine."

There was barely time for the miner to leap on board the cars, and as they were whirled away by the puffing engine, the constable who had arrested Sam accosted him.

"Where you bound, Joe?"

"To Blacktown," was the gruff reply. "What are you up to? Servin' warrants for that fool of a cashier?"

"Yes, I reckon that's about the size of it."

"Got one for me?"

"Of course not; what makes you talk such nonsense?"

"I heard that Bill was goin' to be 'rested, 'cause he'd tried to help Sam, an' seem's he's a mate of mine I didn't know but you'd planned to pull in the whole family."

"But now be honest, an' admit that the case looks pretty black for the two boys."

"That's all nonsense. Sam lost the money, an' it was the fault of the company, not his."

"How do you make that out?"

"Easy enough. They'd no business to send him with so much stuff. It was the cashier's duty, an' that's what makes him so sore, 'cause Mr. Wright's bound to blame such slip-shod ways of shirkin' work."

"Allowin' you're right, it don't help Sam Thorpe's case any."

"We'll see about it before the world's many days older. I ain't quite a fool, an' when I get through your precious cashier will feel sick."

After this threat Joe refused to indulge in further conversation, and the constable left him to seek more agreeable company.

The words of the officer had aroused a new train of thought in the miner's mind, he fancied the lawyer whom Bill had consulted should be informed of what had happened.

With this idea he visited the legal gentleman, immediately after the train arrived in Blacktown, and not only told him all which had happened relative to the robbery; but divulged the secret of the vein.

The knowledge that his clients were in a fair way to be rich, and, consequently, influential, caused a very decided change in the lawyer's manner, and he displayed more zeal than Joe had expected.

"We can easily get bail for your friends in case they are arrested," he said, "and in the meanwhile I will attend to the deeds. It is necessary the titles should be searched before the discovery is known by the public, and if you need any money I shall be glad to advance it."

"If the farmer can't back out of his trade, we've got all that'll be wanted yet awhile," Joe replied "but the most important thing jest now is to get Bill an' the boys out of their scrape."