Part 8 (1/2)

”Not much danger of that,” laughed Mr. Bell, ”a fellow of Juan's type can subsist on next to nothing if he has to, and his burro is as tough as he is, I suspect.”

”At any rate, he must have thought so when he got that kick,”

laughed Peggy.

”It reminded me of a verse I once heard,” put in the former hermit.

And then, without waiting for anyone to ask him to repeat the lines in question, he struck up:

”As a rule, never fool With a buzz saw or a mule.”

”I expect that's excellent advice,” laughed the old man's brother, ”but now, ladies and gentlemen, as the excitement of the night seems to be over, I think we had better retire. Remember, an early start to-morrow, and if all goes well we ought to be at Steer Wells by nightfall.”

”If we steer well,” muttered Jimsy, not daring to perpetrate the pun in a louder tone of voice.

Fifteen minutes later, silence entrenched the camp, which seemed like a tiny island of humanity in the vast silence stretched round about. As they slumbered, the girls, with their silver-mounted revolvers--gifts from Mr. Bell--under their pillows, the clouds of the dry storm rolled away altogether, and the effulgent moon of the Nevada solitudes arose.

Her rays silvered the desolate range of barren hills and threw into sharp relief the black shadows which marked the deep gulches, cutting the otherwise smoothly rounded surfaces of the strange formation.

Suddenly, from one of the gulches, the figure of a man on horseback emerged and stood, motionless as a statue, bathed in moonlight on an elevation directly overlooking the camp. For perhaps five minutes the horseman remained thus, silent as his surroundings. But suddenly a shrill whinny rang out from one of the horses belonging to our party, who had seen the strange animal.

Instantly the figure turned and wheeled, and when Mr. Bell, ever on the alert, emerged from his tent to ascertain what the noise might portend, nothing was to be seen.

”That's odd,” muttered the mining man, ”horses don't usually whinny in the night except to others of their kind who may suddenly appear.

I wonder--but, pshaw!” he broke off; ”the thing's impossible. Even if our mission were known n.o.body would dare to molest us.

”But just the same,” he continued, as, after a careful scrutiny, he returned to the tent he shared with his brother, ”but just the same I'd like to know just why that animal whinnied.”

Whoever the watcher of the camp had been, he did not reappear that night, but while old Mr. Bell prepared breakfast, and the girls were what the boys called ”fixing up,” the mining man summoned the boys to him and observed that he wished them to take a little stroll to see if better gra.s.s for the stock could not be found in the hills.

This was so obviously an excuse to get them off for a quiet talk that the lads exchanged glances of inquiry. They said nothing, however, but followed Mr. Bell as he struck off toward the barren range.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the camp the mining man informed them of his suspicions and of what he had heard the night before.

”On thinking it over I am more than ever convinced that somebody must have been hovering about the camp last night,” he declared, ”but it is no use alarming the others unnecessarily, and, after all, I may be mistaken. In any event, from now on, we will post ourselves on sentry duty at night so as not to be taken by surprise in the event of any malefactors attacking us.”

”Then you really think, sir, that somebody may have wind of the object of our journey and molest us?” inquired Roy soberly.

”I don't know; but it is always best to be on the safe side,” was the rejoinder; ”the towns on the edge of the desert are full of bad characters and it is possible that in some way the reason of our expedition has leaked out.”

By this time they had walked as far as the mouth of one of the bare canyons that split the range of low, barren hills. Roy, whose eyes had been thoughtfully fixed on the ground, suddenly gave a sharp exclamation.

”Look here, Mr. Bell,” he exclaimed, pointing downward, ”what do you make of that?”

He indicated the imprints of a horse's hoofs on the dry ground.

”You have sharp eyes, my boy,” was the reply; ”those hoof-prints are not more than a few hot old, and certainly clinch my idea that someone on horseback was in the vicinity of the camp last night.”

Jimsy looked rather grave at this. Roy, too, had a troubled note in his voice as he inquired: